


She made a hat of the sky and a coat of the wind.

by Catkin_Thief



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (he also has a crush on her but shh), AU in Tolkien's world, Cinderella AU, Dying love confessions, F/M, Getting drunk together, King and Lionheart, LotR AU, M/M, Modern AU, Modern coffee shop AU, Reincarnation AU, Soul Mates AU, Tauriel gets injured and Thranduil gets yelled at by the healers parts one and two, Tauriel's family is horrible, Thranduil is a brilliant best friend, Valinor AU, merman au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catkin_Thief/pseuds/Catkin_Thief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This has become as series of drabbles revolving around the hobbit characters. I will be taking prompts now, so feel free to leave one, although if you want a specific one you may want to be quite specific in your prompt as I have a habit of going wildly off at a tangent, but such is life.</p><p>The story of 'Thranduil gets yelled at by the healers' has now become a story in it's own right, under the name of 'Say I love you'. I don't know how to link it here, but it's in my stories if you want to find it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This is a strange idea that's been floating around in my head for a while, so I thought 'what the hell' and decided to post it. It's more than a little odd and AU but please bear with. I should probably point out that the date and the city that he visits are unspecified because I have no idea what they are, although it's not Dale or Laketown and it's after Smaug destroyed Erebor.

 

I

 

As Thranduil rode into the city of men, he noticed a small girl-child sat on the wall. She was small and slender with large green eyes that stared at him out of her too-thin face. Her bare heels drummed against the wall in a strangely compelling pattern and her short hair blew in the wind, still a vibrant red even through the layers of grime and muck.

He found her... interesting. All the other men-folk looked away, afraid to meet his eyes but this child met his gaze with an insolence and command that made him feel for a fleeting instant that she was the royal and he the tattered beggar, but that moment soon passed. She was eating an apple and he noticed how thin and pale her arms were. This wasn't a child that had been cared for. She was thin, too thin and her clothes were tattered and ragged.

She was wearing a too large shirt that swamped her small frame and she wore tattered old breeches that ended half-way down her shins with red hair that just brushed the tops of her ears, but there was no way this child would ever be mistaken for a boy. There was a delicateness about her face and her features were entirely too feminine. She bit the apple again, drawing his attention to her lips. It was cold enough that he felt a slight chill, but despite her lack of winter clothing the girl did not shiver, her hands and feet, while pale, were a normal colour and her lips were as red as the apple, not blue.

A guard called his attention away for a second – Thranduil answered him with a dismissive remark and a frown- and when he looked back she was gone as if she had never been there. The only thing left to show that he had not dreamed her up was an apple core placed carefully on the stones so that it stood proud and visible. Thranduil rode on, resolutely putting her to the back of his mind. She was a child of Men, and therefore of no importance to him. It would not be the last time he would meet her.

 

II.

 

A few days later, the human king decided to show him around the city. He seemed proud of it, and spoke of it as if it was a jewel or some such thing, but Thranduil only saw poverty and despair. The girl-child he had seen a few days before had been the first homeless child he had seen, but he soon realised that there were far, far more.

There was a scuffle at the end of the alley and a confusion of voices, drawing his attention away from the human king's tiresome words. One voice raised above the rest, which was no small feat. “Stop! Thief!” it cried. A small figure emerged from the crowd and headed towards them at a dead run. Thranduil was surprised to recognise the child he had seen before. (That is to say, he was surprised that in the whole city it was the same child twice in a row, not that he was surprised to recognise her, for elvish memory is not like human memory for elves almost never forget things, although he was surprised that one human child would stand out to him so much.) She held a steaming pastie in one hand, occasionally taking bites from it, apparently unconcerned by the hot gravy streaming down her hand and arm, covering her chin and spotting her shirt.

As she approached them, her eyes flickered from a waggon pushed off the side by the king's tour, to the shoulder of the waggoner to an overhanging rooftop and Thranduil understood what she was going to do a split second before she did it. She jumped onto the waggon, then one small foot landed on the shoulder of the astonished waggoner and then she jumped again and grabbed at the overhanging rooftop. She hung there for a second by one hand before swinging herself up and on to it. The pastie that started the whole business was still clutched tightly in her other hand and she took a big bite, grinning at the chaos she had created.

Then she was off, tripping along the rooftop like she'd been born to it, one arm outstretched for balance and eating her pastie with the other. She glanced back over her shoulder only once, but there was no fear or triumph in her eyes. Instead, she only seemed gently amused that they'd even bothered to try and catch her in the first place. Then her gaze met Thranduil's. It seemed like he gazed into her eyes for eternity, drowning in a sea of green before she smiled and disappeared into the distance. Thranduil was troubled. While he could hold anyone's gaze and intimidate most on Middle Earth, this child seemed to be the exception.

A guard ran over, puffing and out of breath. “Where did she go?” he asked the waggoner.

“Over the rooftops,” the waggoner replied. The guard swore briefly.

“Not again. That's the third time we've lost her this week.”

“You are not going to go after her?” Thranduil asked. The guard seemed to realise he was in the presence of royalty for the first time and he bowed in Thranduil's direction.

“Nay, majesty,” the guard said respectfully. “Once they've hit the rooftops we've lost them for good. No idea of where they've gone, you see?”

“They?” he queried.

“Street rats, majesty,” he clarified. “There's whole gangs of them. Kids who's parents have died or kicked them out on the streets and left them to fend for themselves. They probably reckon it's better to join a gang, safety in numbers and all that.”

“That will do, guardsman,” the king snapped. “Return to your post.”

“Yes sire,” the guard muttered. He retreated and the party moved on in silence, leaving Thranduil to wonder about the young red-headed thief.

 

III.

 

It was maybe a decade before Thranduil had cause once again to venture into the land of Men and he remembered the small red-headed child that he had seen. Her face had not faded in his memory, rather she stood clearer in his mind each passing day. The new Captain of the guard, Tauriel, reminded him a lot of her in looks and her fiery personality, although he had never actually spoken to the child, but Thranduil put her out of his mind with a frown. Why should he waste his time thinking about a human thief? He had more important things to worry about.

They were not far from the city he had visited last time when Thranduil heard the sound of running feet. Before he knew it, he had once again come face-to-face with a certain red-headed thief. She was a child no longer, although her face still held some of it's childish mischief and Thranduil was once again reminded just how quickly men aged. She was still small and slim in stature and again she wore no shoes and her clothes were thin and ill-fitting. Her eyes were as green as before, but Thranduil didn't make the same mistake of meeting her gaze. Her hair was barely longer although it looked better cared for. She could not have been more than seventeen, hardly an adult even by human standards, but she still held that air of command.

As soon as they saw her, his guards jumped into action, pointing their weapons at her and she skidded to a halt, her eyes wide. For an eternity, no one moved. For an elf who was accustomed to having centuries fly by in the blink of an eye to have seconds drag by as if they were millennia was strange and unsettling. Finally, the red-haired thief spoke and once more, she seemed amused by the whole thing. “My brother keeps saying I should I should worry about where I'm running to not where I'm running from. I'm starting to think he might be right.” That wry statement would have made Thranduil smile, had he not been in front of an audience, but at least it got his guards moving again.

“Should we take her into custody, my lord?” Tauriel asked. The red-haired thief frowned.

“Why? I didn't think it was against the law to be running across the country-side.” Tauriel had no answer for that.

“Let her pass,” Thranduil said, waving a hand airily. “She is not doing anything wrong and I cannot be late.” The guards lowered their weapons. The red-haired thief met his gaze, but this time, instead of drowning in it, he seemed to be pinned by it, and he couldn't break eye-contact.

“My thanks, majesty,” she said with a small smile, and then she was off again. For a moment, Thranduil felt gratified by her thanks, that someone had seen him as an equal, not simply as a King. There didn't appear to be anyone chasing his red-haired thief, she just liked to run.

“My King,” Tauriel said. “If I may ask, why did you let her go? She is a wanted thief in the human lands.” When he raised an eyebrow at that she mutely pointed to a wanted poster pinned to a nearby tree.

“It often amazes me,” he said softly, gazing into the distance.

“What does, my lord?”

“The courage and resilience of human children.” Then he urged his elk forwards and would talk of it no more.

 

IV.

 

Many, many years later, after the dwarves had reclaimed their homeland and the dragon had been killed, Thranduil surprised the man called Bard the Bowman, later King Bard of Dale, by bringing food and aid when he least expected it. “I have come to reclaim something of mine,” he said. Many assumed he was talking about the jewels in the mountain, or his wayward Captain, but deep in his heart, he remembered the insignificant red-haired thief he had met three times. He had never even known her name, but slowly, he had forgotten her and in doing so, he had forgotten how it had felt to feel something other than cold. He had come to reclaim that, to reclaim that person he had been so long ago, the one who had felt gratified to have the thanks of a red-haired human thief. He had no idea how to go about it, but he felt that helping Bard the Bowman and his family and people might be a start as to how to go about it.

 

He saw her once more, or at least, he thought he did. When him and Legolas and the rest of their kin finally decided to sail for the Undying Lands, he saw a flash of red hair on the docks as they set out. At first, he thought it was Tauriel, but no, she was the other end of the ship. He seemed to see a pair of green eyes staring at him out of their too thin face and a swish of red hair. A laugh floated across the harbour to his ears and the patter of running feet. For a second, he saw her, and he bowed his head in benediction. When he raised his head again, she was gone.

 


	2. Free Father-son relationship advice with your coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern coffee shop AU, starring Thranduil, Tauriel, Legolas and Aragorn with a side of Killi and Sigrid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU idea was bugging me, so I decided to write it down and post it, after all, it isn't doing anyone any good sat taking up space on my computer. Anyone who's read any of my other fics will know that I'm a sucker for slightly mad ideas, the more AU the better as far as I'm concerned and I am now taking prompts, so if you have any ideas don't hesitate to ask, I'll do my best to write it. If you are going to do a prompt though, please be specific as I have a tendency to get carried away. Thanks :)

Thranduil stood on the pavement and wondered how his afternoon had gone so badly off track. It had all seemed so simple this morning; work from home until noon, then go out and have lunch with Legolas. Greenwood, the company of which he was CEO, could pretty much run itself at the moment, as every one knew what they were doing and he had a very good PA, Galion, who could handle things if he went out to have lunch with his son. He began to walk along the street, his jaw clenched in anger. Somehow, what had started out as a simple lunch with his son had turned into a full blown argument over Legolas' boyfriend, Aragorn. It wasn't that Thranduil was homophobic, or that he objected to Aragorn himself, but he had a long standing rivalry with the boy's father, Elrond, who was CEO of his main competitor in business, Rivendell.

Thranduil was abruptly pulled from that line of thought by his stomach rumbling. Since the argument had started before their lunch had arrived, neither him nor Legolas had eaten with both of them storming out of the restaurant they had chosen to meet in in a towering temper. He looked around. He wasn't anywhere near any of his usual haunts, having not watched where he was going, but there was a coffee shop over the road that looked like it might do a decent sandwich. He crossed the road, raising an eyebrow at the name of the place. Dale? What was that supposed to mean? He pushed open the door.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel lent against the counter and sighed. She was only here because she'd promised her friend Sigrid that she'd cover her shift for her, when really all she wanted to do was go back to her apartment and collapse. It was practically empty, and almost time for Tauriel's shift to end, so she was just wondering whether she would get away with sneaking out when the little bell rang, signalling a new customer. She looked up and gaped. The new customer was tall enough that his head brushed the top of the doorway with long blonde hair that fell down his back and piercing blue eyes. He hesitated, looking a little unsure, and Tauriel gathered her wits enough to speak. “Hello sir, can I get you anything?” A look of relief flashed across his face. He must not come into coffee shops often. He ordered quickly and clearly and Tauriel wrote it down on her notepad, nodding as he spoke and trying to look like a professional, at least, she was trying to look like what she hoped a professional barista looked like, which may or may not have been how a professional barista actually looked, but never mind. “Thank you, sir. If you just sit down I'll bring this over in a minute.” Normally, customers waited at the bar for their food, but Tauriel hated to think what kind of mistakes she'd make if he was watching her. She was clumsy enough at the best of times and something about this man seemed to make her flustered.

~ ~ ~

Thranduil watched the young red-headed barista as she moved about behind the bar. She looked to be Legolas' age, perhaps a bit older and she made his order quickly and efficiently, although she did seem a little clumsy. She'd almost finished making his coffee when a young man came out of the kitchen. “Tauriel,” he said, putting on his coat.

“Yes, Killi?”

“Can you cover my shift for me? Only, I promised my uncle I'd be there for two and I'm not gonna have time to finish my shift. I'll give you half my wage.”

“Actually-”

“Thanks, Tae, you're the best.” He hoped over the bar and was out of the door before the other barista, Tauriel could answer. She sighed.

“Yeah, sure Killi, I'd love to cover two consecutive shifts on my one day off.” She brought Thranduil's lunch and coffee over and placed them on his table. After that, she disappeared into the kitchen, so Thranduil went back to thinking about his argument with Legolas.

~ ~ ~

“Sir? Are you all right?” Thranduil looked up, confused. The barista Tauriel was standing by his table, concerned. “Only, you've been sat here for almost an hour, just staring into space,” she continued.

“I'm fine,” he replied. To prove it, he took a swallow from his coffee, nearly spitting it back out again when he realised it was stone cold.

“Would you like another coffee?” Tauriel asked. Thranduil looked up just in time to see her hide a smirk.

“Yes please.” She nodded and headed off while Thranduil scowled into nothingness. Trust a barely-out-of-school girl working in a coffee shop to catch him out when business associates he'd known for years couldn't tell what he was thinking. She brought him over his second coffee and he took it with a muttered, “Thank you.” She waited, and eventually he spoke.

Tauriel hesitated before leaving the strange man's table. He'd looked lost, and she had the kind of nature that wouldn't let her just leave someone to struggle along on their own. He played with his cup for a second before speaking. “I had an argument with my son.”

“A bad one?” He snorted.

“When we disagree there's no such thing as a good argument,” he said softly.

_Fair enough_ , Tauriel thought. “How old is he?” The man looked up at her, confused.

“Slightly younger than you, why?” Tauriel shrugged.

“He probably just over reacted. You're used to protecting him, right? Well, he's probably just starting to want to do things for himself and you still want to protect him from the world.” She tilted her head to one side. “Call him and apologise,” she suggested. “Even if he's still angry, he'll realise that you didn't mean to upset him like that.”

“You think that will work?” Tauriel shrugged again.

“You'll never know until you try.” She tapped the expensive looking phone he had laid on the table infront of him. “Call him. It can't make it any worse, unless you lose your temper again.” He smiled slightly.

“Is the free advice part of your job description?” Thranduil asked amused. Tauriel laughed.

“Yep. Get free father-son relationship counselling with your coffee.” She sobered up and tapped his phone again. “Seriously though, call him.” She went back to the bar to deal with another customer and Thranduil looked at him phone. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone and dialled his son's number.

“Ada?”

“Legolas?”

~ ~ ~

Legolas looked at his phone in surprise while Aragorn scowled from the other side of the couch, but he ignored his boyfriend. “If this is about earlier,” he began.

“Actually,” the voice said, tinged with discomfort. “I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise?” Legolas looked at his phone with even more surprise. He hadn't thought his father knew what the word meant.

“Yes.” Thranduil's sigh was a rush of static down the connection. “I was wrong to say the things I did. I'm sure that Aragorn is nothing like the few of his family I've had the misfortune to meet and yes, I would like to meet him at some point, as he is clearly very good for you and I'm sorry that I wouldn't listen to you.” Legolas was silent for a long moment.

“I'm not sure whether to accept your apology or shout at you some more,” he admitted. Aragorn raised an eyebrow at that. In all the time they'd known each other, he'd never known Legolas to lose his temper, or for Thranduil to apologise, come to that. Laughter came down the other end of the phone.

“Well, that girl was right.”

“What girl?” Legolas asked, intrigued.

“The barista at this coffee shop,” Thranduil explained. “She asked if I was all right, because apparently I'd been staring into nothing for about an hour. I said that we'd had an argument and she said I should call you.”

“What coffee shop are you at?”

“Dale, I think it's called. I'd recommend the coffee, except this is the second cup I've let go cold.” Legolas laughed at that.

“Well, I accept your apology for now,” Legolas said, hearing his father sigh in relief. “Shall we meet at our usual time for lunch next week?”

“Yes, although...” He could almost feel his father grin. “We may want to pick another restaurant. I don't think that one will be inviting us back any time soon.” Legolas laughed.

“No, I don't think they will. See you then. Oh, and Ada?”

“Yes Legolas?”

“Get her number.” Then he grinned and hung up, knowing his father would be staring at his phone in disbelief.

“I'm guessing that was your father,” Aragorn said, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend's grin.

“Yes,” Legolas said. “He apologised for insulting you and, if I'm reading the situation correctly, he's quite taken by a barista at the coffee shop where Arwen's friend Sigrid works.”

“Did he give any details?”

“No, but I told him to get her number.” Aragorn burst out laughing.

“That's an exchange that I'd give a lot to witness.” Legolas grinned at him.

“I know, me too.”

~ ~ ~

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his phone. Legolas did not just say what he thought he'd said. Unfortunately it appeared he had. Ignoring it as teenage nonsense, Thranduil waved over the barista, Tauriel. “Well?” she asked.

“He accepted my apology, and I'd like my bill please. Do you take cards?”

“Of course,” Tauriel said, grinning. “I'll just go get the machine for you.” She grabbed the machine and came back over. Thranduil handed her his card which she took, glanced at the name and looked at him with a bit of surprise, but before long she was asking him to put his pin in and then she was giving him the receipt. He noticed her writing something on the back and then she handed the receipt and his card to him with a sweet smile before quickly disappearing behind the bar and into the kitchen. Thranduil looked at his receipt with confusion, then flipped it over. Written on the back in red Biro was the name 'Tauriel Archer' and her number. With a chuckle, Thranduil gathered his things and swept out of the café. It seemed Tauriel and Legolas had had the same idea.

~ ~ ~

In the kitchen, Tauriel lent against the counter until her heart beat slowed slightly. She'd just given her number to  _Thranduil Opherion_ , who was the  _CEO of Greenwood_ . Grinning, she grabbed her phone and texted Sigrid.  _Thanks for making me take over your shift x._ The reply a few seconds later made her laugh.

_I made you work a shift on your day off. Why are you so happy?_

_I just gave my number to a really hot dude._

_Cool :) You can cover my shift any time you like._

_Thanks xxx._

_Don't know why you are thanking me. I'm the one getting time off._

_True, but I'm the one who's just given my number to a hot guy._

_Whatever. Keep me posted, yeah?_

_Will do :)_ Tauriel grinned. She'd possibly never been happier at the idea of extra work.

 


	3. Say I love you when you're not listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU set in Tolkien's world after Return of the King. My friend said to me, "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if Tauriel got injured and then Thranduil gets all protective and gets yelled at by the healer's for acting like a love sick fool and making a pest of himself and Legolas could be like 'I do not believe you guys.'" So yeah, you can thank her for this.  
> Also, the elvish in this story is a mix of what I've seen other writers on this site and a language that I made up for a different story a while back, there are translations included however.  
> The title for this comes from one of my favourite songs, Distance by Christina Perri.

Many, many years after Frodo and the ring, after Aragorn had married Arwen and become King of Gondor and after travelling the world with Gimli, Legolas decided to go home to the Greenwood. The memories of elves are not like the memories of men, and Legolas could remember every stick and stone, every leaf that the Greenwood bore, and he missed the old familiar faces. Over the centuries, he'd come to terms with the feelings he'd once had for Tauriel. She had been a great friend to him, but in the cold light of reality, he had to admit that that was all it had been, friendship. Oh, he may have fancied himself in love with her, but it had only been an infatuation, a dream to get him through his life. He wondered in passing, on the long road back to the Greenwood, whether she had ever gotten over her feelings for the dwarf, whatever his name had been, or if she had been equally blinded.

He was mildly surprised to be greeted by Tauriel at the gates. She looked the same as ever, although he thought that she looked happier now, although they probably all did. “How did you know I was coming?” he asked her. She shrugged.

“The King told me that you were coming.” Legolas blinked.

“How did he know?” he was astounded at Tauriel's laugh.

“You have been gone a long time, mellon. Nothing happens in the Greenwood that the King does not know.” She stopped before the throne room. “I'll leave you to meet him in private, will you be on the training grounds after lunch?”

“Probably,” Legolas replied. Tauriel smiled.

“I'll see you there, then.” She was gone and Legolas opened the doors to the throne room cautiously. His father was sat in his throne, talking with a council member, almost exactly as Legolas remembered it. When he saw him, King Thranduil paused, before dismissing the council member and sweeping down the stairs to greet his son. To Legolas' surprise, he swept him up in a hug, as he had not done since he was an elfling. “Ada?” he asked, confused.

“Ea dosc antak ganela a elle, hir edu,” he whispered into Legolas' hair. ( _You have been away too long, my son)._ He took a deep breath and stepped back. “The halls have been empty without you.” Legolas could only blink back tears. He had never known how much his father still loved him. After his mother's death they had drifted apart in their grief, and his love had never been able to break the walls around his father's heart. It had been like they were staring at each other through a glass wall; they had been able to see each other and communicate pretty easily, but never really touch or be able to go to the other person for comfort. “Tell me,” Thranduil continued, more like the father he remembered. “How fares the world outside my realm?”

“It is much better now that the shadow is gone,” Legolas answered. “Aragorn's son is a good man, he will make a good king for Gondor and the King of the Dwarves is equally skilled.”

“And the elves?” Thranduil asked, sitting on his throne.

“Most of our kin have sailed,” Legolas replied honestly. “Imladris is almost deserted and so is Lothlórien, with both Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond having sailed. The only other I can think of at the moment who still resides in Middle Earth is Lady Arwen.”

“Elrond's daughter.”

“And Aragorn's wife.” Thranduil nodded and they continued speaking, the only hitch came when Legolas mentioned the dwarves. “Durin's line?” Thranduil asked, surprised. “I thought that died out with Thorin Oakenshield and Filli and Killi.”

“Not quite,” Legolas said. “Their mother, Thorin's sister, Lady Dis, did not go on the quest to reclaim Erebor.”

“So Durin's line continues.”

“Yes.” Legolas looked at his father, confused. “You knew their names?”

“Who?”

“The dwarves, you knew their names?” Thranduil smiled sadly.

“I knew all their names.”

~ ~ ~

As the seasons turned, Legolas stayed in the Greenwood. There was still a thriving trade between the Greenwood, Dale and Erebor and he had gotten the itch out of his feet, so he was content to stay in the halls of his people and reunite with old friends. Over that time though, certain suspicions grew in his mind. Something, or someone, had thawed his father's heart, for Thranduil was kinder and more considerate to others than Legolas had ever seen him. He had also learnt, quite by chance from an old friend, that Tauriel had not grieved overmuch at the dwarf's death, admitting when questioned that while she had loved him, she had thought of him as a kindred spirit or a friend, much like she thought of Legolas, but she had never really loved him romantically. His suspicions roused, Legolas watched his father and the Captain of his guard.

It was always Tauriel who came to report to his father, he noticed. No matter how tired or busy, or injured she was (although his father had thrown a fuss the couple of times she'd come to report to him still bleeding, so she now made sure to go to the infirmary first) it was always Tauriel who came to report. He also noticed that Thranduil was far closer to her than he had been when Legolas was there, often asking her opinion on things that didn't technically come under her jurisdiction as Captain of the guard. They also met a lot outside of work and although seeing his father laugh was still a surprise to Legolas, he noticed that it was almost always himself or Tauriel that made the King laugh.

Eventually, Legolas decided that he couldn't hide from the truth any longer. His father, King Thranduil of the Woodland realm, was in love with Tauriel, Legolas' best friend and Captain of the King's guard. For some reason, almost none of the other elves in the kingdom seemed to be aware of this fact, indeed, Thranduil and Tauriel themselves appeared to be unaware of it. Legolas was only really convinced when he saw them at a council meeting that Tauriel really didn't have any business being at. When Thranduil wasn't speaking his eyes were almost constantly trained on Tauriel and he seemed almost unable to pull them away for any length of time. Likewise, when Thranduil was speaking Tauriel kept her eyes trained on her King, going so far as to almost ignore the people sat around her. Legolas could see the mutual love in their gazes, but they both seemed unaware that the other felt just the way they did, perhaps because they avoided holding eye contact for more than a second and even if their gazes did meet it was normally accompanied with a slight flush on the back of Tauriel's neck and even Thranduil looked uncomfortable. He didn't know how long it would have lasted, this mutual pining, had it not been for the fact that Tauriel was injured.

~ ~ ~

Legolas had noticed that Thranduil normally returned to his usual irritable self when Tauriel was out on patrol, almost as if he was worried about her, although Legolas didn't know why, as there were no spiders any more and the only thing the patrols had to contend with was the occasional goblin and infrequent roving bands of bandits. It was far safer than it had been before the battle with Mordor, yet Thranduil still seemed concerned. It was past the time that the patrols normally returned when Tauriel's second in command, Faolin, came running in. “Faolin?” Thranduil asked confused. “Where is Captain Tauriel?”

“That's why I was coming, my lord,” he said. “Tauriel is badly injured, she almost didn't make it to the infirmary.” Legolas was looking at his father, so he saw his father's face go white and saw his lips move and then Thranduil stood abruptly, stalking out of the throne room without bothering to dismiss the rather confused elf who had reported to him. Faolin looked at Legolas confused. “Is his majesty... quite all right?” he asked delicately.

“He's fine,” Legolas replied thinking quickly. “I know it may not seem like it at times, Faolin, but my father cares for each and every one of his subjects, and after losing so many to the spiders and the Shadow, he does not care to lose any more.” He nodded to Faolin. “If you will excuse me, I would like to check on Captain Tauriel's progress myself, she was ever a friend of mine.” Faolin nodded and Legolas left to head to the infirmary, pondering on what his father had said. Luckily, Faolin had been too far away to hear the King or read his lips, for Legolas doubted that it was something his father wanted everyone to know.

“Nal era el elu,” he had whispered. “Eralel nal era.” ( _Not her as well. Please not her._ )

Luckily, the wound was not as serious as Faolin had led them to believe, and the healers told Legolas and his father time and again that it was not a fatal wound and that Tauriel would live and make a full recovery, although that didn't appease Thranduil much and he continued to make a pest of himself in the infirmary. After the initial shock of having the King burst in, demanding to know if Tauriel was all right, most of the healers found their feet and continued to act like nothing had happened. In hindsight, Thranduil admitted that he'd had it coming. For three days, he'd been practically living in the infirmary, pacing up and down, demanding to know what every herb did and why they needed it and how soon Tauriel would awaken. Legolas didn't help matters by turning up every half hour or so, enquiring as to the state of Tauriel's health. It was on the fourth evening when Amalie, a young apprentice healer, lost her temper.

Thranduil was pacing up and down one end of the infirmary, as he had been for the last three days when the eldest healer, Marie, looked up. “Amalie,” she said. “Fetch some more athelas for me please.”

“Of course Marie,” the young red-haired healer said.

“What do you need that for?” Thranduil demanded instantly.

“For Eru's sake!” Amalie cried. “She is wounded and this is the fastest way of healing her. Must I deal with this everytime I go to get a herb?” She faced the King, hands on her hips, her normally warm brown eyes blazing with anger. “Either sit down and be quiet or go pace someplace else. All you're achieving at the moment is distracting the healers, and that will do Tauriel no good. She is fine, and she will continue to be fine.”

“But... but.” Thranduil was doing a remarkable impression of a fish. “She is sleeping, all the time.”

“We put her in that sleep so she would heal!” Amalie said, exasperated. “It is not a mortal wound, she will be fine.” She spun on her heal and stalked towards the door, leaving the King gaping after her. The other apprentice, Lorathiel, was staring at her in horror, his blue eyes wide and healer Marie was carefully concealing a smile at her apprentice's volatile nature. “Oh.” She turned back and fixed him with a glare. “You ought to eat something as well, you'll be no use to anyone if you faint from hunger.” She shook her head. “I don't know what you were hoping to achieve, moping around like a lovesick fool, but you'd better pull yourself together soon if you don't want to end up as another patient.” She marched out of the room, slamming the door behind herself. Thranduil was so surprised at being scolded by a young healer's apprentice that he actually did exactly as she had told him. He shut up, sat down, and sent a servant to fetch some food. Three paces down the hall, Amalie came to an abrupt halt as what she had just done finally sank in.

It was there that Legolas found her ten minutes later, standing three paces from the door to the infirmary, her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide and fearful. He rushed over. “Are you all right?” Then another thought over took that one. “Is Tauriel all right?” Amalie removed her hands from her mouth and turned to him, still shaking.

“Tauriel is fine.”

“What... are you all right?” Amalie shook her head.

“Nael.” ( _No.)_ “I just scolded your father for making a pest of himself.” Legolas stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. “What?” she demanded.

“I wish I could have seen his face,” Legolas cried. Amalie shook her head vigorously.

“No. Believe me. It was not funny. Not from where I'm standing anyway.” Suddenly, something seemed to come to her. “Oh! The athelas!” She ran off.

“Wait!” Legolas cried, his laughter drying up. “Why do you need that?”

~ ~ ~

Amalie almost refused to go back into the infirmary, terrified of the consequences of what she had done, but after having Legolas reasure her that the King would not have her exiled for losing her temper, she re-entered the infirmary with the athelas that Marie had asked for with Legolas close on her heels. The King had barely eaten the food that his servant had brought, still fixated on the healers, although he was making an effort to be quieter and less distracting. He noticed Amalie come in, but he didn't say anything, causing the apprentice to relax.

When darkness fell, Marie ushered Lorathiel out of the room, but not before giving Amalie a very pointed look. It was all right to shout at someone in the heat of the moment, but afterwards you must apologise, particularly if the person you had insulted was the King. Amalie took a deep breath and approached the King. “King Thranduil?” he looked up.

“Yes?” Amalie clasped her hands together to stop them shaking.

“I'm really very sorry for scolding you,” she said. “It wasn't my place and I shouldn't have said those things, it was incredibly rude of me. However,” she added. “I stand by what I said, as it was true and you were neglecting yourself badly, but it shouldn't have been said by me and certainly not like that.” There was complete silence for a moment.

“You know,” Legolas said finally. “That is possibly the strangest apology I've ever heard.” Amalie winced.

“I've never really got the hang of apologising,” she admitted. Thranduil waved a hand dismissively.

“It does not matter. What you said was the truth and that is all that matters.” He paused. “Although you need to learn to control your temper, not everyone will take being shouted at by an apprentice healer in their stride.”

“Yes your majesty,” Amalie said meekly. Thranduil hesitated.

“If I ask how Tauriel fares will you shout at me again?”

“Nael, hir vuin,” ( _No, my lord.)_ she stuttered, her face flushed red with mortification.

“Very well,” Thranduil said, smiling slightly. “How does Tauriel fare?”

“She is well, my lord, we expect her to wake any day, now that her injuries are mostly healed and we fully expect her to be able to go back to her work within the next fortnight.”

“That is good to hear,” Thranduil said. “You are dismissed, healer Amalie.”

“Yes my lord.” She left and Thranduil moved to Tauriel's bedside to hover over her sleeping form.

~ ~ ~

Legolas followed his father, a strange feeling in his chest. Thranduil clearly cared for Tauriel and she for him, and for a brief moment Legolas felt overhwelmingly bitter that it was his father Tauriel cared for and not him. Then he gave himself a firm shake. Tauriel was his friend and Thranduil was his father and he wanted them both to be happy, surely he wasn't that much of a child still, selfishly wanting all of their attention and not caring for their feelings? No, he wasn't. He had long since gotten over any feelings he had for Tauriel and he only wanted the best for them. Thranduil made a small noise of distress and he looked at his father in concern. Thranduil's hands were hovering over Tauriel's prone form, wanting to touch her, to reassure himself she was all right, but not quite daring. “Eras ir bo ille,” he whispered. ( _She is so small_ ) “Le eranoth.” ( _And pale.)_

“Ada?” Legolas asked.

“Yes?” Thranduil didn't look at him and Legolas hesitated before asking the question that was on his mind.

“You really love her, don't you?” Thranduil looked up at that, something suspiciously like guilt on his face. “I don't mind,” Legolas hastened to add. “She is my friend, my _soelan-soiin_ nothing more.” ( _Soul-sister)_.

“I... I don't know,” Thranduil admitted. Legolas fidgeted slightly.

“If you did,” he said slowly. “Would that cause a problem when- _if­_ you decided to sail for the Undying Lands?” Thranduil froze. He didn't move for so long that Legolas began to fear that he had gone too far. If his father had been his old self, he would never have dared to ask that question, but if his father had been his old self then he wouldn't be in this position, so Legolas decided that was a rather useless train of thought. Finally, Thranduil sighed.

“Legolas...” he trailed off, unable to put what he wanted to say into words. “I... When your mother died, she was killed by the Dark Lord Sauron. You know this.”

“Yes,” Legolas agreed.

“When she... died... she was destroyed completely, body, mind and soul. I will never see her again, for she is gone from this world forever.”

“Oh,” Legolas said. It was all he could manage. What can you say to something like that?

“But that does not matter now,” Thranduil said. “For I do not plan on sailing to the Undying Lands if I can avoid it.” Legolas nodded, for now he knew why. All the other elves would be reunited with their loved ones, but Thranduil would have to live alone, with the pain of a broken heart, forever. Ever so carefully, like she was glass that might shatter at any moment, Thranduil picked up one of Tauriel's hands. It looked so small and child-like next to Thranduil's that he paused for a moment, forcibly reminded of the age gap between them. Legolas, quicker than many gave him credit for, noticed the look on his father's face.

“She is an adult like I am, ada,” he said. “And she loves you, that is all that matters.” Thranduil didn't say anything and Legolas decided that the best course of action would be to leave them on their own. He faked a yawn. “I promised to go to the training grounds early tomorrow morning,” he said. “So I'll head back to my chambers now. Goodnight, Ada.”

“Goodnight Legolas,” Thranduil replied. Once Legolas had left, Thranduil gently placed Tauriel's hand back on the blanket before looking around. After spotting a chair, he dragged it over and positioned it next to Tauriel's bed before carefully picking up her hand again. In the darkness of the room, Thranduil dared to say what he would never say if Tauriel was awake. Lifting her hand, he pressed a small kiss to her knuckles. “Ae dua ea, Tauriel.” ( _I love you, Tauriel_ ). In the morning, they would probably go back to just being King and Captain, but here and now, they were just Thranduil and Tauriel, and Thranduil could admit his feelings for her, even if she couldn't hear him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not really sure how to finish this, so I'm just going for leaving it like this and possibly posting an ending to it if I can think of one. If anyone comes up with a good ending for this then please tell me because I am so stuck.


	4. Say I love you when you're not listening (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the ending to the story before it, 'Say I love you when you're not listening.' I wasn't originally going to write an ending, as I couldn't see one, but Animesia asked me to, and the idea of a matchmaking Legolas working alongside the healer Amalie from the earlier chapter set fire to my brain. It does continue directly on from that one, so you will have to read that first for this to make sense.  
> I'm sorry it took so long, as it's shorter than the last chapter, but I couldn't see Legolas being brave enough to confront both of them about it at the same time and every time I tried to picture Amalie doing it we had an argument, so it ended up like this. It is very cliche, but as Legolas says, "That just proves it works." Please enjoy.  
> NOTICE: I will be going on holiday for two weeks over Easter and then I have my GCSE's, so it's highly unlikely that anything will get posted for a while. I'll still be writing though, so I'll try to post some stories once it all dies down a little.

Tauriel awoke slowly. Her right side felt like it was on fire from the attack, but she could feel the slight warmth of healing magic floating through her, so that must mean she was in the infirmary. For a heart-stopping second when she sat up and opened her eyes properly she thought she'd been blinded, but logic and a quick glance out the window made her realise that it was merely night time and that she still retained her sight. As Tauriel went to lie back down again, a strange thought filtered through her foggy awareness. _Why is someone holding my hand?_ She looked to her left and froze. Thranduil, _King_ Thranduil, was sat in a chair next to her bed, holding her hand between his. For a moment, they just stared at each other. “Hir vuin,” Tauriel said. ( _My lord._ )  
“Tauriel.”

“Are... are you all right?” His laugh sounded incredibly loud in the infirmary and it seemed to startle him as much as her.

“You are the one who has been admitted to the infirmary Tauriel, I think I should be asking you that question.” Tauriel flushed.

“You're sat at my bedside in the middle of the night staring into space,” she protested. “I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to be asking.”

“I was... worried about you, mellon,” he said, hesitantly. For the third time in as many minutes Tauriel's heart almost literally stopped. Why was the _King_ calling her friend? To cover her confusion, she yawned, she was pretty tired anyway. “Go back to sleep Tauriel,” he said softly. “I will stay here.” For some reason, his presence was enormously comforting and Tauriel lay back down on her left side so that she was facing him. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt a hand brush the hair from her eyes.

“Duom nissal, Thranduil,” she murmured sleepily. ( _Goodnight, Thranduil_ )

“Duom nissal, Tauriel,” he replied. ( _Goodnight, Tauriel_ )

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Tauriel was mildly disappointed to see that the King wasn't there anymore, but she was too busy persuading a very persistent healer's apprentice (Amalie) that she didn't need anymore medicine, so she didn't really have time to think about it. The girl was muttering as she dressed Tauriel's wound, casting dark glares at an innocuous chair in the corner. Slightly taken aback, Tauriel listened closer to what the girl was saying. “Makes a pest of himself in here for four days,” she muttered. “Going on about when she'll wake up and when she does where is he? Not in here, that's for sure. I was expecting tearful reunions, declarations of love and what do I get?” She paused to grab some more athelas. “An empty infirmary. Honestly, I don't know  _what_ he was thinking.” She walked off, still muttering to herself and leaving Tauriel completely confused. Another apprentice approached with a glass of water, which she took gratefully.

“Is your friend quite all right?” she asked. The young elf, Lorathiel she thought his name was, shrugged.

“She shouted at the King yesterday,” he replied. “I don't think she's quite recovered yet.”

“I see,” Tauriel replied. _This is why you shouldn't let yourself get injured,_ she thought to herself. _I've missed four days and so many things have happened I've no idea where I'm at._

Within a few days Tauriel was practically back to normal, although she was starting to think she'd been injured much more than she'd thought. Firstly, according to the healers, Thranduil had been making a pest of himself while she was ill, which she'd never heard of him doing before, unless the elf concerned was in danger of dying. Secondly, the healers had been giving her weird looks ever since she had woken up and thirdly she had had a _very_ strange conversation with Legolas and he had left looking incredibly annoyed, although she still didn't know what he'd been going on about. As she thought, her feet trod the familiar, well-worn way to the King's throne room. She was going to report to him again, as Faolin had flatly refused, saying that he planned not to go anywhere near the King for at least a century. Tauriel entered the throne room, bowing as she did so. “My King,” she said.

“Captain Tauriel,” he replied. Since he had never again called her friend Tauriel decided that that had merely been a fever dream. The report had gone as she expected, although the whispered conversation Legolas had been having with the healer Amalie had been quite distracting.

~ ~ ~

Legolas nearly groaned when he heard how his father greeted Tauriel. Couldn't he just get over himself and confess his love for her? It was becoming increasingly clearer to him that neither of them was aware how the other felt. _For Valar's sake,_ he thought, when he saw the way Thranduil's eyes followed Tauriel. _You'd have thought he's never been in love before._ He heard a muffled groan from beside him and turned to see the healer that had shouted at his father, Amalie, looking just as frustrated as he felt. She saw him and rolled her eyes. “Do they even know how frustrating they are?” she demanded in a whisper.

“Thank Eru,” Legolas whispered back. “I was beginning to think I was crazy. No one else can see it.”

“I know! After the way he acted yesterday I was fully prepared for a tearful reunion this morning, but he was nowhere to be seen! Pestering me all day and then he can't even have the decency to give me something to gossip about.” Legolas had to muffle a laugh in his sleeve.

“Tearful reunions aren't really my father's cup of tea,” he said, when he'd regained control of himself again.

“I know,” she said. “But I thought that was what it would take to push them together, but they're right back where they started.” She sounded frustrated, and Legolas couldn't help but agree.

“We ought to do something to get them together,” he suggested. Amalie looked intrigued by that.

“What do you suggest?” she asked.

“How about the usual,” he said. “You tell Tauriel you need to speak with her, set a time and place, but I'm there instead. I confront her about her feelings for my father and she confesses, but if I tell my father that I want to meet him at the same time, same place, he'll hear everything.” Amalie raised an eyebrow.

“Isn't that a bit cliché?” she asked.

“That just proves it works,” Legolas said with a shrug. “Are you up for it?” Amalie eyed him speculatively.

“One condition.”

“Yes?” The grin on her face spoke of many years of elfling mischief.

“If the King gets angry, it was all _your_ idea.” Legolas mulled that over for a moment. Thranduil would believe that anyway, but he was likely to get away with it.

“It's a deal,” he replied.

“Excellent,” Amalie replied, with a grin that lit her whole face up. “When do you think we should plan this for?” Legolas felt an answering grin light his face. He had been away from home _far_ too long.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel stared worriedly at her rather small selection of clothing. Amalie had asked to meet her in one of the smaller gardens near to the back of the King's palace as she was worried about how Tauriel's injury had been progressing. The problem was though, that she couldn't exactly wear her guard uniform as she wasn't on duty and she certainly couldn't wear a dress if Amalie wanted to examine her side. Eventually, she settled on a green tunic and plain trousers, figuring that she would be most comfortable in clothes that matched her guard uniform. When she finally reached the garden, Amalie was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Legolas was stood towards the back, examining some of the flowers. “Legolas,” she greeted him. “Have you seen Amalie? She asked me to meet her here.”

“No, sorry,” Legolas replied turning to face her. “But I'm glad I met you, there's something I've been meaning to ask you.” Tauriel looked at him quizzically.

“What is it, mellon?” she asked. Legolas sighed.

“You have feelings for my father don't you?” Tauriel blushed as red as her hair.

“I- I have no idea what you're talking about,” she stuttered. Legolas sighed and tugged her over to a stone bench.

“I want you to understand; I'm not bitter or jealous, I just want to know.”

“I... I don't know, Legolas,” Tauriel said softly, staring at her hands. Unseen by her, Legolas frowned, this was _not_ how it was supposed to go.

“Why not?” Legolas asked. “Surely you should know the contents of your own heart?” Tauriel sighed.

“I feel... something,” she admitted. “But I thought I loved Killi, yet when he died I was able to continue my life much the same.” Legolas spotted her problem.

“You are scared to trust yourself, mellon,” he said. “Is that it?” Tauriel nodded and Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. He dare not think what would have happened if him and Amalie had been wrong about her feelings. “With Killi,” he said carefully. “I think you were right to call it love.”

“I was?”

“Yes, you see...” he paused, collecting his thoughts. “With Killi, you only knew him a scant number of days. Yes, you loved him, but you didn't _know_ him, you didn't have long enough to let that love grow, so you did not grieve as much as might be expected at his passing.” Tauriel had been looking at him as he spoke.

“You really think so?”

“I think you are right to trust your heart, soelan-soiin,” ( _soul-_ sister) he replied. Tauriel's face flushed at the new title and she looked back down at her hands.

“Then... I think you are right also, soelan-boriin, in thinking that I... love your father.” ( _soul-brother_ ). There was a muffled thump behind them, and they both turned at the sound of Amalie's voice.

“I'm so sorry, hir vuin,” ( _my lord)_ Amalie cried. “I didn't see you there.” Legolas sprang to his feet as Tauriel's face went white.

~ ~ ~

Thranduil had been walking towards one of the smaller gardens towards the back of the palace when he heard voices. Legolas had asked to meet him here, and since he wasn't busy he had agreed. One of the voices sounded like Legolas, but the other... Thranduil swallowed. Hard. The other voice was Tauriel's, one he would never forget. After she had unexpectedly awoken in the infirmary while he was holding her hand Thranduil had used their roles as King and Captain to keep a barrier between them and hide his increasingly obvious feelings for her. Meeting her here in a public place without his façade as King to hide behind, he wasn't sure how he would react. As he came within earshot, he heard what his son was saying. “- understand; I'm not bitter or jealous. I just want to know.” He froze where he was standing, half hidden behind the archway. This sounded too much like a conversation he'd had with his son for comfort. He stood there in a daze, listening to their entire conversation. It couldn't be true. It _couldn't_ be true. Tauriel thought of him as a father figure, nothing more, why would she be in love with him? He turned to leave as silently as he had come, only to have the healer's apprentice, Amalie, run straight into him.

“I'm so sorry, hir vuin,” she cried, oblivious to his glare. He had wanted to leave _unnoticed._ “I didn't see you there.”

“I gathered,” he replied frostily. He turned to look at the occupants of the garden. Legolas met his gaze steadily, although he looked slightly guilty for some reason. Tauriel on the other hand, had flushed a bright red and refused to meet his gaze. “What were you doing, Amalie?”

“I was late for a meeting with Tauriel,” she replied slowly, looking between him and Tauriel anxiously. “But I can talk to her later if you want to talk to her?”

“Yes, perhaps that would be best,” Thranduil replied. Amalie nodded.

“Come on Legolas.” Grabbing his hand, she disappeared into the palace, casting a concerned look back over her shoulder as she did so.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel had never felt so embarrassed in all her life. Why would Legolas get her into a situation like this? Her friend had always been rather reckless and thoughtless, but not this bad. When Amalie and Legolas left, she felt even worse. He clearly wanted to tell her just how inappropriate her feelings were in private, which she supposed was better than telling her in public, but only slightly.

“Tauriel... mellon?” He spoke hesitantly and Tauriel kept her gaze on the ground as he approached.

“Ela, hir vuin?” ( _Yes, my lord?_ ) Just because he called her friend did not mean she was afforded the same liberty, although it did probably mean that that meeting in the infirmary hadn't just been a fever dream, for which she was inexplicably grateful. A gentle hand under her chin forced Tauriel to look up.

“Teh rai aes, Tauriel,” he said softly. ( _Look at me, Tauriel.)_ “Is it true?” he asked, and there was a strange urgency in his voice. “Do you...?” he tailed off, unable to voice the words he wanted to speak. It was as if a veil had fallen from her eyes and Tauriel suddenly saw the reason for his supposed distance. He was just as afraid of falling in love again as he was.

“Dua ea?” she finished for him. ( _Love you?_ ) A smile crossed her face as her blush faded and she nodded. “Ela.”

“Thank Eru.” He stepped closer and pulled her tight against him, holding her in a tight embrace. Tauriel laughed and lifted her head so she could see his face.

“Are you so scared of me, my King?” she asked. Thranduil smiled, all the coldness and distance she had always associated with him melting away.

“Not any more,” he replied and he kissed her gently on the lips.

~ ~ ~

Legolas smiled at Amalie and she smiled back. “Looks like our plan worked,” he said.

“Looks like it did,” she replied. Amalie tilted her head to one side, thinking. “We should do this again sometime.”

“What... match-make?” Amalie laughed.

“No, I meant this.” She waved a hand between her and Legolas. “Talk to each other when no one's injured.” She looked up at him, suddenly vulnerable. “I don't have an awful lot of friends.”

“Well, will I see you soon, mellon?” Amalie smiled at that, and her whole face seemed to light up.

“Probably,” she replied. Darting forwards, she kissed his cheek and then dashed away, leaving Legolas standing there stunned. After a moment, his hand came up to touch where she had kissed him. He would _definitely_ like to get to know her better. Besides, anyone who could stand up to Thranduil and Tauriel was worth having on his side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is it with the men in that family and red-heads? I didn't actually plan that ending; when I started it Legolas and Amalie were just going to be good friends, but Amalie kept bugging me until I gave in.  
> Please feel free to leave prompts, comments, kudos or whatever, I love knowing that people actually read what I write and if it gives me an idea for another story, that's just a bonus. Happy Easter everyone. (And yes, I know it's a bit early).


	5. Ember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sorry it's been so long, but this one took forever to write as it's about 7000 words long. It came to me over the Easter holidays and I just had to write it even though it's a bit odd. It's basically a Cinderella AU with Tauriel as Cinderella and Thranduil as the prince. Please enjoy.

Tauriel Archer was only thirteen years old when her father died, leaving her in the care of her stepmother, Éowyn, for her own mother had died when she was a child. Éowyn was cruel to Tauriel, hating the girl for her natural beauty and lightness of spirit that she would never be able to imitate. She and her two daughters worked Tauriel like a slave, making her their only servant, as the others had been sent away long ago when Éowyn could no longer pay them.

The two daughters, Arwen and Sigrid, weren't too bad, as Arwen was more vain and flighty than cruel, more concerned with her appearance and catching a good husband than the welfare of her younger step sister. Sigrid was the kindest of the three, genuinely caring about Tauriel, although her fear of her mothers temper and a life time associating with Éowyn and Arwen had hampered her natural kindness.

For almost seven years Tauriel worked for them, and in time she almost came to believe that she deserved this treatment, for if you are told something often enough you will eventually begin to believe it. In time, Arwen took to calling her 'Ember' – a habit that her mother soon picked up – as a cruel pun on the girl's red hair and her habit of sleeping near the hearth in the kitchen.

Tauriel's nature, however, was as fiery as her hair and she would bow to no one for long. It was shortly after her nineteenth birthday when her stepmother went too far and Tauriel snapped, when Éowyn casually informed the girl that she would now be expected to pay for her bed and board, as they couldn't afford to keep paying for her. Tauriel was tempted to ask what bed and board, as she had no money and she slept in front of the hearth and ate the scraps the three of them left behind. She had been so very, very close to shouting at the woman, and maybe hitting her, but the voice of reason told her that doing so would only lose her the only home she'd ever known. Instead, she ran out of the house and into the forest behind it, furious tears burning her eyes.

It was not long before Tauriel admitted that she was hopelessly lost, but she wandered for a time in the forest; she was not scared of the animals, as her mice friends could attest to. It was perhaps and hour or two later when she wandered across the road that lead back to the house. She was slightly surprised to see how far she had come, but there was nothing she could do, although she hated to think of how Éowyn would react.

The sound of hooves startled her and she jumped back onto the grass at the side of the road to let the riders pass. Two passed without looking, but the third halted. The rider was a tall young man, with long blond hair that he wore braided back from his face. His eyes were a piercing blue, but they were kind. “Are you alright?” he asked. “You're a long way from the nearest town.”

“I'm fine, my lord,” Tauriel replied, not at all daunted by talking to a Lord, although she was terribly conscious of how her dirty rags must look against his finery. “I was just out for a walk.” The man laughed.

“There's no need to call me Lord or Sir,” he said.

“What should I call you then?” Tauriel challenged. He hesitated for a moment, looking along the road to where the other two riders had gone.

“My brothers call me Thran,” he said finally.

“Well, a good day to you then, Mister Thran,” Tauriel said, dropping a quick curtsy. “Where are you off to on such a fine day?” Thran grinned and slouched in his saddle.

“Escaping from my tutor, actually,” he admitted. “He wanted to give my brothers and I a history lesson.”

“What on?” Tauriel asked, intrigued.

“The reign of King Thror and the golden days of Erebor, I believe,” he replied with a grimace. “A dry and dusty subject indeed, despite the battle that Smaug later incited.”

“At least it's better than the rise of Ered Luin,” Tauriel said, wrinkling her nose. “That one's so dry I need a drink just thinking about it.” Thran laughed at that.

“True.” The pounding of horses hooves on the road broke off the conversation as the two riders from earlier rounded the corner.

“Thran?” One of them called. “We should be going.”

“I'm coming,” Thran called back.

“Try the book by Gandalf Grayhame,” Tauriel suggested when he turned back to her. “He can make any subject seem interesting.”

“I will,” Thran replied with a smile.

“Thran?” The rider called again.

“I said I'm coming!” He turned quickly back to Tauriel. “What should I call you?” he asked. “I cannot simply keep thinking of you as red-headed mystery girl.”

“You may as well call me Ember,” Tauriel replied. “Everybody else does.”

“Thran!” The other rider yelled, out of patience with his brother.

“Eru bless!” Thran cried. “I said I'm coming!” With a last glance at Tauriel, he kicked his horse forward and disappeared with his brothers down the road. With a sigh, Tauriel continued at her much slower pace along the road, her heart inexplicably lightened by her chance meeting.

~ ~ ~

“Who was that?” Legolas, one of Thran's brothers asked.

“Just a girl,” he replied.

“Must have been some girl, to keep your interest,” his other brother, Éomer, remarked. “Even the Lady Galadriel couldn't keep you interested for that long and she's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.”

“There's more to women then just beauty,” Thran said shortly, before kicking his horse into a gallop so he outdistanced his brothers. Éomer shared a concerned look with Legolas, but neither of them said anything to their temperamental brother. For the rest of that week, and the following ones as well, Thran, actually Prince Thranduil, eldest son of King Oropher, remained preoccupied with the red-headed girl he had met on the road that he knew only as Ember.

“What bothers you, my son?” Oropher asked eventually, one evening a few weeks later when his son had yet again not heard what he had said. “You have seemed out of sorts for a few weeks now.”

“Do you remember a few weeks ago when Legolas, Éomer and I played truant from our history lesson?”

“Yes, why?” Oropher asked. Thranduil sighed.

“I met a girl on the road that day and I can't stop thinking about her.” He scowled at the opposite wall, well aware of how cliché he sounded. “It doesn't make sense, ada, I only spoke to her for a few minutes, but she's been on my mind ever since.” Oropher sighed.

“It happens that way sometimes, Thranduil,” he said softly. “The first time I met your mother, I only spoke to her for a few minutes, but I knew almost instantly that she was the rest of my life. Is she noble-born, this girl of yours?” he asked, shaking off the memories.

“I don't know,” Thranduil replied, looking uncomfortable. “She was dressed like a commoner, but her speech wasn't that of a servants and she gave a formal curtsy.”

“Did she give a name?”

“Not really. She said that 'everybody else' called her Ember and that I should do the same, but I doubt that's her real name.” Oropher sighed.

“That's unfortunate, Thranduil,” he said. “For the Grand Duke has decided that I should hold a ball for you and invite all the noble maidens in the land so that you may choose a wife.” Thranduil frowned at that.

“What if I do not want to choose a wife yet? There are many things that I have yet to do, ada, I am not ready.”

“You may have to be, my son,” Oropher replied. “I am growing old and the people are growing restless. There needs to be an heir to the throne in case anything happens to me.”

“There's Legolas and Éomer,” Thranduil protested. “It's not like I'm your only son. One of them could be crowned heir if I became King.”

“Legolas gave up that privilege when he began courting Aragorn,” Oropher snapped. “You know that he can never be heir if he is serious in his relationship with Lord Arathorn's son, even if he would be heir in name only.”

“There is still Éomer.”

“Éomer is unsuited to rule, besides, you know he has already threatened to abdicate if I crown him heir.”

“Fine!” Thranduil cried, standing. “Have your ball.” He began to pace the room. “On one condition,” he added. “ _All_ eligible maidens noble _and_ common shall be invited, and I shall be allowed my pick of any of them. There is no rule that my bride must be of noble-blood.”

“It is what has always been done,” Oropher replied levelly.

“That doesn't mean it is what should be done,” Thranduil retorted.

“Very well,” Oropher said, sighing. “Your conditions shall be met.” He knew how futile it was to try and force his son into doing something different when he really had his mind set on something. All of his sons were stubborn and proud, but his eldest perhaps carried it to extremes.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel had not been punished very much when she vanished for several hours on the day she met Thran and the subject of paying for her 'bed and board' had never arisen again either, possibly because her stepmother had realised that if she provoked Tauriel into running away she did not have enough money to hire a new maid, not that anyone would willingly work for their family anyway, no matter what she paid.

In any case, the matter was soon forgotten all together a few weeks later when the subject of the eldest prince's ball came up. Naturally, Éowyn, Arwen and Sigrid, although more Éowyn and Arwen than Sigrid, went mad with preparations for the ball, running up an even larger debt at the dressmakers when they ordered three new gowns. As that news, Tauriel frowned. “What shall I do for a dress then?” she asked.

“You!” Arwen cried, looking up from where she was admiring her new dress. “What makes you think that you'll be allowed to go to the ball, _Ember_?” she put a cruel emphasis on the last word, emphasizing the fact that Tauriel would be considered as a servant.

“The notice said that _all_ maidens, noble and common should attend,” Tauriel replied, trying to keep her temper. “I am just as eligible as you or Sigrid are.”

“Well I shall not pay for another dress,” Éowyn snapped. “Not after the debt your father left us in.” Tauriel bit her tongue angrily and left the room, well aware that anything she had to say would only make the situation worse. She heard feet in the corridor behind her and then Sigrid caught at her arm.

“I have several old dresses you may have if you wish, Tauriel,” she said. “There might be one there that you can wear.”

“Thanks Sigrid,” Tauriel replied.

She ended up with a rather faded, pink dress of Sigrid's that she altered so it would fit her. It did not look very good, as the pink clashed horribly with her hair and it was slightly too long as Sigrid was taller than she, but Tauriel only wanted to go so that she might see Thran again anyway. Besides, it was a far sight better than the red dress she had also tried, which Sigrid had actually refused to let her wear, saying that it was far too big and the colour looked horrendous on her, which Tauriel had to admit was true.

It was the night of the ball when everything went terribly wrong. Tauriel had been kept busy all day and it was only right before they were due to leave that Tauriel managed to get away to her room and slip her dress on. As soon as it went over her head she knew something was wrong. The skirt, which should reach the floor, barely came down to her knees and the bodice, which had been on the verge of being too tight, was gapingly loose. Tauriel nearly cried when she saw what had happened. Someone had snuck into her room and ripped the skirt to shreds and ripped the bodice up one side, so that there was no chance of her being able to wear it.

Tauriel gaped at her reflection in the darkened glass of the window. The beautiful dress that Sigrid had lent her was in rags. She could hardly go to the ball like this... but who would do such a thing? “Tut, tut, tut,” came a voice from behind her. “Stealing one of Sigrid's old dresses just to go to the ball, how very like you, Ember.” Arwen appeared from the shadows in the corner, a malicious grin on her face even as she stood there in her beautiful white gown. “Of course, I had to take steps to teach you that this kind of behaviour is simply not appropriate for a servant of our family.” She looked up at the clock and smiled sweetly. “Well, I must be going, Ember. Good luck trying to fix that dress for when Sigrid wants it back.” She turned to leave and said over her shoulder. “Oh, and by the way, pink is _really_ not your colour.” She left, closing the door behind her.

Tauriel didn't know how long she stood there, shocked and trying to come to terms with it all, but the sound of the front door slamming and a coach driving away, startled her out of her reverie. It was too late, the coach was gone and Tauriel's dreams were shattered around her. She closed her eyes. She had only wanted to go to one ball, just one, to maybe meet Thran again and see what life was like before living out her life with her stepmother and stepsisters.

She fled to the rose garden, the place where her mother and father were buried side by side and one of the only places where she could escape from the reality of her life. Once she was there, she knelt next to her father's grave and dissolved into tears.

~ ~ ~

At the palace, Thranduil was edgy, nervous even. Whatever happened tonight, whether Ember came or not, he would have to choose a wife. “What's gotten into you?” Éomer asked. “Anyone would think that you're about to meet your future wife for the first time. Oh, wait, you are.” He laughed and Thranduil glared at him.

“This isn't funny, Éomer.”

“I have to admit,” Legolas said, from behind him. “You do look rather nervous.” Thranduil turned his murderous scowl on him.

“Don't you have someplace else to be? Either of you? The bottom of a treacherous cliff springs to mind.”

“No.”

“Nope. Ada told us to make sure you actually arrive at the ball.” Thranduil glared at both of them, one after the other.

“I hate you.”

“No you don't,” they replied in unison, both grinning. “You're just saying that to make us feel better.” In spite of himself, Thranduil laughed at the old joke and slung an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Come on you two, Ada will be cross if we're late.”

~ ~ ~

“Why are crying?” A voice asked behind Tauriel. The girl spun around to see a stranger standing there. The stranger looked to be a girl about Tauriel's age, although she was barely three foot tall. She was hovering above the ground, kept there by a pair of delicate wings. She had bright blue eyes and reddish- brown hair and she was wearing a simple blue dress. In her right hand she held a wand. “Why are you crying?” she repeated.

“I wanted to go to the ball to meet my friend,” Tauriel replied, wiping her eyes. “But my dress is ruined and now I have to fix it so that Sigrid won't get angry.” The little faery bit her lip.

“I might be able to help you with that,” she said. “First off, we're going to need a carriage.” She looked around and her eyes fell on a pumpkin in the vegetable patch. “There we are.” She waved her wand in a complex pattern and before Tauriel's very eyes it changed into a carriage. “What do you think?” the faery asked anxiously.

“It's beautiful,” Tauriel breathed, and the faery smiled happily.

“Now we need some …” she trailed off, tapping her wand against her chin, deep in thought. “Mice!” she cried. Tauriel raised an eyebrow.

“Mice?”

“Mice.” The faery agreed. “I'll need four little mice.” Tauriel nodded. What was a bit more oddness in this already very strange night?

“Out you come then,” Tauriel called. Four little mice crept from the shadows to rest near Tauriel's feet. Two were much larger than the others, and of them one was golden and the other brown. The smaller two were both a brown-reddish colour, although one was darker than the other. “These are Killian, Philip, Meriadoc and Peregrin,” she said. “But I call them Killi, Filli, Merry and Pippin. They are my friends.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the faery said with a little curtsey. It would have looked slightly ridiculous from anyone else, but it seemed perfectly natural coming from her. “Now hold still.” Again, she waved her wand in another complex pattern and the four mice grew to be as big as horses. “Ah,” the faery said. “I think I've forgotten something.” She watched the four horse-sized mice for a moment. “Oh, I know!” She waved her wand again and the mice changed into real horses. “There, that's better.”

Once Tauriel had harnessed the four horses to the carriage, she looked back at the faery. “What next?”

“We need some footmen,” the faery said. “Aha! Those lizards will do nicely.” Another few waves of her wand and Tauriel had two footmen, albeit, two rather green ones. “Now, a driver.” A goose was chosen for the driver and soon all was ready. “And finally,” the little faery said. “We need a new dress for you.” She gave Tauriel a once over. “A green one perhaps? It would go lovely with your eyes.”

“Not that I mind,” Tauriel said. “But why are you helping me?”

“It's in my job description,” the faery replied. “I'm your faery godmother.”

“Aren't you a bit young for that?”

“It's the first time I've ever done something this big,” she admitted. “How am I doing?”

“Perfectly, so far,” Tauriel replied, and the faery smiled in relief.

“The dress is the important bit,” she said, tapping her wand against her chin thoughtfully. “They hang the whole thing on the dress, I can't mess this up.” She raised her wand. “Stand still now,” she cautioned. As she waved her wand, a green mist seemed to form around Tauriel and then it gathered itself to drape around her in a dress. It was very different to Sigrid's dress. It had almost no sleeves, just a lacy frill across her shoulders and then a tight bodice that flared out at the waist to form a flowy, floor length skirt. “What do you think?” the faery asked anxiously.

“It's perfect!” Tauriel cried, spinning around in delight.

“Oh no. That simply won't do.”

“What's that?” Tauriel asked, thinking she'd said something wrong.

“Your shoes,” the faery replied. “They simply won't do. Something will have to be done.” Tauriel looked down at her feet. She was wearing a pair of Arwen's old black shoes.

“They're the best I have,” she told the faery.

“Well, we'll have to do something about that, won't we. Step out of them, please.” Tauriel did so and the faery waved her wand. Again, a green tinged mist seemed to form around the shoes and when it faded Tauriel gasped in astonishment. The shoes were made of green-tinged glass. They had a pretty substantial heel and there was a little leaf at the toe of each shoe. “Well don't just stand there,” the faery said in exasperation, when Tauriel only stared at them. “Try them on.” Tauriel did so, slipping her feet into the glass shoes. They fitted perfectly.

“Thank you,” Tauriel said. “Thank you so much.” The faery smiled.

“I should be thanking you really,” she said. “Some faeries wait their whole life for something this big, I'm bound to get a promotion after this.” She ushered Tauriel towards the carriage. “Now, off you go, you mustn't be late. Don't worry about your family, they won't recognise you.”

“Thank you,” Tauriel cried, climbing into the carriage.

“Yes, yes, now off you go,” the faery paused, like something had just occurred to her. “Wait!” she cried. “I almost forgot! The spell will be broken at the last stroke of midnight and all will be as it was before.” She looked a little apologetic at that. “Sorry, but it's standard practise, can't change that.”

“I understand,” Tauriel said, smiling.

“Now, off you go,” the faery cried. “Have a lovely time, but don't forget!”

“I won't, and thank you,” Tauriel replied, waving as the carriage carried her out of sight.

~ ~ ~

Thranduil looked around the room uneasily from where he stood by his fathers throne. The ballroom was almost full now, and he had not seen a sign of Ember. He'd watched very carefully every time the herald introduced another group of ladies – and he'd been deceived by more than one red-head -- but Ember was no where to be seen.

“Is that girl of yours here yet?” Oropher asked his son.

“No,” Thranduil replied shortly. He really hoped she would turn up soon, he was beginning to feel an awful lot like some kind of prize standing up here. Legolas had disappeared early on with Aragorn and even attention-loving Éomer had fled, so he was beginning to feel a bit deserted.

All the guests had entered now and the doors were closed. Every female eye – an quite a few male eyes – in the crowd were fixed on Thranduil as his father made the opening speech. When he got to the part about Thranduil choosing a wife a sussurration ran through the crowd and all the women focused even more on Thranduil. The prince in question began to think quite seriously of running away. He'd never loved attention, like Éomer, or been able to talk with anyone, like Legolas, and he hated the feeling of having every eye present fixed on him.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel hurried up the steps to the palace, nearly tripping on her new shoes several times, for she'd never worn heels before. Two young men, one looking an awful lot like Thran and the other quite serious-looking with dark hair and grey eyes, were stood near a set of double doors. They looked up from their conversation as she approached. “I'm not late am I?” she asked anxiously.

“No yet, Lady,” the dark-haired one replied respectfully. “But the ball will start in a minute, you'd best go straight through.”

“I will. Thank you, my lord,” she replied, walking past them and opening the doors. She found herself stood at the entrance to a large ballroom and every single eyes was fixed on her. Oh. Oh dear.

~ ~ ~

Just as his father finished the speech he had been preparing for three weeks, and which Thranduil was gloomily positive no woman in the audience had listened to, the doors to the ballroom opened. Only Éomer (who had come back to stand by his brother for moral support after being snubbed by the Lady Arwen) heard the gasp Thranduil made when he saw the figure standing there. Despite the dress and the dearth of soot stains, he would know that face anywhere. It was Ember.

The figure curtsied with profound grace to the assemblage and began to walk down the few stairs towards the ballroom proper. Thranduil, after a hearty shove from his brother to get him moving as he was apparently incapable of doing anything but staring, stumbled down the stairs from the throne and towards the green-gowned figure. The crowd parted automatically to form a corridor and sooner than he expected, Thranduil came face to face with the woman he had been thinking about for the past month. All his usual eloquence deserted him and Thranduil was struck dumb. The only thing that seemed to register in his mind was that she was a lot smaller than he had expected. Luckily for him, Ember spoke first. “Thran?”

“It's Prince Thranduil actually,” he replied.

“Yes, I gathered that,” replied the girl. She paused, and her eyes darted around them. “Why are they all looking at us?” she hissed.

“Believe me, Ember, they are all looking at you, for never before has a beauty like yours graced our halls,” he said, with a hint of his usual eloquence. He bowed to her then, eliciting shocked gasps from the audience. “May I have this dance, my Lady?” he asked, loud enough to be heard by the surrounding people.

“I would be delighted, your highness,” she replied, curtseying and taking his outstretched hand. Music started from somewhere, thanks to Legolas frantically signalling the musicians and Thranduil led Ember in a dance. The surrounding crowds drew back to give them some space and Thranduil whirled Ember across the floor.

~ ~ ~

Despite her high heels, Tauriel was still a few inches shorter than Thranduil, leaving the top of her head level with his nose. For the first few moments of the dance, Tauriel stared desperately at his chin while trying to remember everything she'd been taught about dancing. Unfortunately, the only thing she could remember was something Sigrid had said once, after coming back from a party. “Never wear high heels if you're going to be dancing Tae,” she'd said, massaging her ankle. “You can break an ankle if you're not careful.” At the time, Tauriel had been fetching ice for Sigrid's ankle and she had laughed at the idea that she would ever be in a position to wear high heels to a dance, but now she was bitterly regretting not listening.

Once she was sure she had dress, shoes and feet working together fairly well, she looked up to see Thranduil looking at her with a mixture of confusion, adoration and amusement. “What's wrong?” he asked softly.

“It's been a long time since I last danced,” Tauriel replied softly, and he frowned. Tauriel knew what he was thinking; in the past year alone five lords had thrown parties and even the commoners danced at fairs and festivals, so how could it have been a long time since she last danced? Thankfully, he didn't pursue the subject.

“Ah.” He smiled down at her and changed the subject. “Are you going to tell me your real name?” Tauriel sighed wistfully.

“I don't think that's a good idea, Thran,” she said, unconsciously using the pet name he had first told her. “My stepmother didn't want me to come, you see, so I don't want anyone to know who I really am." Thankfully, she wasn't looking at Thranduil at that moment, because he was looking at her with something approaching alarm, worried by these snippets of information about her life.

Another dance had started and more couples filled the floor, many of them looking in envy at Thranduil and Tauriel. Taking advantage of a gap in the crowd, Thranduil took Tauriel by the hand and pulled her through the crowd and out of the ballroom all together. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Away from there,” Thranduil replied over his shoulder. “I hate balls anyway. Courtiers always seem to make my sword itch for some reason.” Tauriel laughed at that and allowed him to pull her through the corridors.

~ ~ ~

Thranduil hadn't been lying, he did hate balls and courtiers did make him want to kill them sometimes, but he also wanted to show Ember something. They'd almost reached it when Ember gave a small cry and pitched forwards. Thranduil, turning to see what the matter was, ended up with an armful of red-hair and green gown. After a frozen moment of surprise, he set her one her feet again with an arm around her in case she fell again. “Are you all right?” he asked, concerned, for Ember had bent over to rub at an ankle and her lips shaped a number of words that no proper lady should ever know.

“I think I turned my ankle wearing those stupid shoes,” she replied.

“Where's your shoe?” he asked, for he could see that her foot was bare. When Ember mutely pointed back the way they had come, he made sure she could stand on her own and then went to pick up the offending shoe. It was quite tiny, he noticed, with a delicate heel that was probably the reason for her fall. It was also made of glass and it was tinged the same colour as her dress. “Glass shoes?” he asked with amusement, coming back with it in one hand. Ember shrugged from where she was standing on one foot and leaning against the wall.

“They were a gift,” she replied simply. Thranduil was about to ask if she could walk when a flash of instinct stopped him. It informed him that she would answer yes to that question even if she had a broken leg.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked instead.

“A little,” she replied. She could probably have walked, but it gave Thranduil an excuse to do something he'd wanted to do ever since he'd danced with her. He picked her up easily, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her in his arms bridal style. Ember was very still, although she held onto him tightly.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel was still cursing her ankle when Thranduil swept her up into his arms. It brought back very vivid memories of the last time someone had done that. She had been about eleven and she had fallen asleep in her fathers lap on the sofa when he'd been telling her about his latest sailing trip. She had half-awoken as he carried her up the stairs and tucked her into bed, but only enough to smile sleepily, not enough to ask him to finish the story.

Thranduil carried her into a beautiful rose garden and set her down carefully on a stone bench. “It's beautiful,” Tauriel breathed, staring around her. It was far more beautiful than the little one she had at home that her mother and father were buried in.

“It's supposed to be,” the prince replied, sitting next to her. “It was my mothers.” He reached out to a trailing white rose. “I have very fond memories of this place.” Plucking the rose, he tucked it behind Tauriel's ear. She smiled and blushed, tracing it with careful fingers.

~ ~ ~

They spoke of many things as the hours passed, of their parents, their childhood, their favourite occupations (although Thranduil noted in some dim corner of his mind that Ember didn't speak of her childhood past the age of thirteen, but he deemed it unimportant for the moment) and Thranduil found himself growing ever fonder of Ember. “Won't you tell me your name?” he asked.

“You know I cannot,” she replied, from where she was sat tucked into his side.

“Just to me,” he begged. “I won't tell _anyone_ , I swear.” Ember opened her mouth to reply, but the clock began to strike the hour. She looked at the tower and jumped to her feet with a gasp. “What is it?” he asked.

“Twelve o'clock. Oh, I'm so sorry, I must go.” She grabbed the shoe she had lost in the hallway and ran.

“Wait!” Thranduil cried, starting after her. “How will I find you again? You haven't even told me your name!” But Ember was fleeter of foot than he was, and he couldn't catch her.

~ ~ ~

Tauriel ran through the palace, cursing herself for her stupidity. She should have looked at the clock! If Éowyn or Arwen saw her here everything would be ruined. With that in mind, instead of going through the ballroom she ran around the balcony above it, which was mercifully empty. At least, it was empty until she ran round a corner full tilt and straight into someone. “I'm so sorry!” she said, stumbling backwards, her shoe still clasped tightly in her fist. She took in the crown and royal robes and her eyes widened. “Your majesty!” she added, dropping into a hasty, belated curtsey. “I'm so sorry,” she said again, for good measure. Glancing over her shoulder, she continued past him and ran round the corner. Seconds later, she popped her head back round again. “Your son is a wonderful man and you should be very proud of him,” she said, and then she was gone again.

“I am,” Oropher replied, but it was too late. “Strange girl,” he muttered.

The clock had just struck for the fifth time when Tauriel stumbled down the stairs leading up to the palace and left her other shoe behind. She turned to get it, but saw Thranduil and his brothers headed towards her. Leaving it tore at her heart, but she had no other choice and she raced for the safety of her carriage. She'd barely gotten in before it was moving and the gated closed just behind them. Tauriel was counting the strikes, even as the carriage deteriorated around her and they were almost home when the clock struck for the twelfth time. The carriage hit a bump and lurched to one side, throwing Tauriel straight out the door. She landed with a roll, having learnt how to land safely when falling off of horses as a child. When she sat up again, there was no sign of the carriage. A pumpkin sat in the middle of the road, the lizards were no where to be seen and the goose had wondered off. A squeaking attracted her attention and she looked down to see Killi nosing at the shoe she held in her hand with the others clustered behind him. The glass shoe. “Thank you,” she whispered up at the stars. “Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

Thranduil raced down the steps after Ember, almost tripping over something in his haste, his brothers following behind him, but he was too late. Cursing, he watched her carriage disappear down the road. “Thran,” said Legolas. “What's this?” Thranduil turned to see he held the glass shoe in his hand, the one he'd almost tripped over.

“It's her shoe,” he replied, taking it from his brother.

“Well, at least you have a way of finding her now,” Éomer said. “All you have to do is try that shoe on every maiden in the country.” Thranduil gave his brother a withering look.

“That's ridiculous, Éomer.”

“Do you have a better idea?” he didn't.

“I'll do it if you like,” he offered. “You obviously can't go gallivanting round the country side, but I know what she looks like, and you're clearly not going to marry anyone else.”

“Aragorn could track the carriage as well,” Legolas offered, jumping in before Thranduil could say anything. “Even if it doesn't go to her house it will probably end up pretty near.” Thranduil stared at his brothers.

“What would I do without you two?” he asked.

“Live in misery for the rest of your life,” Legolas replied, at the same time as Éomer said.

“Get into far less trouble.” Thranduil laughed.

“Very well, we'll do it your way. Send out a proclamation, or whatever you call it.”

“We might need Ada's permission first,” Legolas said. The three of them looked at one another and squared their shoulders in unison, preparing to do it on the sly if need be. Thranduil, because he would do anything to find Ember and Legolas and Éomer because Thranduil was their brother, and you don't leave a sibling sat among their shattered dreams if you can help it. All three of them were surprised when Oropher offered no resistance, but he too had been charmed by Ember, however strange their meeting may have been, and besides, after one look at his sons' faces he knew that whatever he said they would go after the girl anyway.

~ ~ ~

When Éowyn, Arwen and Sigrid came back from the ball, they all looked curiously at Tauriel. Sigrid, because Tauriel hadn't snuck out to the ball and she'd found the borrowed dress lying neatly on her bed, Arwen, because Tauriel didn't seem sad and the dress had been mended (thanks to the faery) and Éowyn because the girl appeared to be dancing as she made her way around the kitchen. Éowyn said nothing, but she watched the girl very closely. The Prince hadn't yet chosen a bride, so there was still a chance that Arwen or Sigrid would be chosen, and if Tauriel was endangering that chance …

It was only the next day when a convoy of horses appeared before the house. Arwen and Éowyn went into a frenzy of getting ready and practising their smiles, for both the younger princes were there and one of them was still unspoken for. Sigrid got ready to a lesser extent, keeping an eye on her younger step-sister, for she was cleverer than Arwen and Éowyn put together, and she had a feeling she knew who the mysterious lady at the ball had been and she was determined that Tauriel should have a chance at a better life.

However, when she wasn't watching, Tauriel went up to her room to make sure her glass shoe was well hidden and Éowyn, who had come to the same conclusion as Sigrid, locked her in. Tauriel wept and begged and pleaded, but it was no use. Éowyn didn't hate Tauriel, but she was greedy and she wanted to see her daughters get to high places in the world. Tauriel was in the way of that and although she couldn't bring herself to kill the child, she could certainly make life miserable for her.

~ ~ ~

Legolas looked up at the house in disgust. “Are you sure this is the one?” he asked.

“This was where the tracks led to,” Aragorn replied.

“I remember these people,” Éomer said gloomily. “The eldest daughter snubbed me, the mother was patronizing and overbearing and the youngest one was the only one with any manners.”

“I'll stay out here,” Aragorn said.

“Me too,” Éomer agreed.

“You can't,” Legolas said, frowning at his older brother. “You were the one that promised Thran you would do this.”

“Me and my big mouth,” Éomer muttered. “Come on then, Legolas, let's get this over with.” They went up and knocked on the door. The mother welcomed them in graciously enough, but she obviously thought that their errand was a waste of time and that they should simply pick a girl and be done with it. For all his failings, Éomer was a born charmer, so Legolas let him do most of the talking. “If you would try it first, my lady …” he said to Arwen.

“Arwen,” she replied. “Lady Arwen.” He handed her the glass shoe and she tried it on, but it was obvious that it didn't fit. The look she gave Éomer when he suggested letting Sigrid try was like he had asked her to cut off her own foot and hand it to her sister, but she conceded with bad grace. The shoe came closer to fitting Sigrid, but it was still too small.

“Are there any other ladies in your house?” Legolas asked Éowyn, noticing that the youngest daughter had slipped out of the room. Éowyn laughed.

“No,” she replied. “No one but us, the cat and the _embers_ in the fireplace.”

~ ~ ~

Sigrid raced up the stairs to the attic, after grabbing the key from her mothers bedside table and when she was closer, she could hear Tauriel crying. She reached the door panting and out of breath. “Tae,” she whispered.

“Sigrid!”

“Tae, listen, the two younger princes are downstairs looking for the mysterious lady from the ball.” There was a gasp from the other side of the door.

“You have to let me out, Sigrid. Please, you have to let me out.”

“I'm working on it,” Sigrid replied. The lock was old and stiff and it was a struggle to get it to turn and all the time she was aware of the fact that the princes may leave at any moment. When the door opened Tauriel practically fell into her sisters arms. “Come on!” Sigrid hissed, but Tauriel hung back.

“I can't go downstairs like this! They'll see I'm only a servant.”

“Your blood is as noble as ours,” Sigrid replied, towing her sister down the stairs. “Besides, you look fine.” When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Arwen was throwing a tantrum over not being able to try the shoe again.

“It's only a child's shoe anyway,” she was saying. “I don't see why the Prince should want a wife based on the size of her feet.”

“It's not a child's shoe, Lady,” said a male voice.

“It's probably the first time I've ever been thankful for one of Arwen's tantrums,” Tauriel whispered and Sigrid laughed.

“Come on.” Tugging Tauriel into the room, she kept a firm grasp on her sisters hand and addressed the suddenly silent princes. “My lords? This is my sister, Tauriel. I believe she is the one you are looking for.”

~ ~ ~

Éomer had long ago reached the end of his patience with the Lady Arwen and he was about to put her in her place when the youngest daughter came in, tugging another girl behind her. The Lady Arwen fell silent. “My lords?” the youngest daughter said. “This is my sister, Tauriel. I believe she is the one you are looking for.”

“ _Sigrid!_ ” cried the Lady Arwen and her mother.

“She deserves just as much a chance as the rest of us,” Sigrid said stubbornly. “My mother has been keeping her here as a slave,” she continued. “When this house is rightfully hers and she's been trying to convince the family lawyer to give her the money my stepfather left to Tauriel, so she can use that to buy more things.” Lady Éowyn went white and slowly sank into an arm chair. Legolas began to question her while Éomer moved towards Tauriel, the girl Sigrid had brought in. He was just reaching out to show her the shoe, when Arwen, in a childish fit of pique, reached out, took it, and threw it against the nearest wall. The house fell silent and Éomer turned to Arwen with murder in his eyes. A small hand took his arm.

“Please.” It was Tauriel speaking. “Don't.”

“She just smashed it,” he protested. “Do you have any idea what my brother will do when he finds out?”

“But you see,” she said, bringing her other hand around from behind her. “I have the other shoe.” For the third time, the house fell silent.

“Well,” Legolas said. “I think that answers that question.” He walked across the room and offered his arm to Tauriel. “If you will come with me, my Lady Tauriel? My brother was quite distressed at your sudden disappearance and I imagine he will have something to say about the Lady Arwen breaking your shoe.” Arwen was now as white as her mother.

“Why don't you come as well, my Lady,” Éomer said, offering his arm to Sigrid. “Thranduil will be delighted that you reunited him with Tauriel and I expect he'll wish to rewards you.”

“I don't need a reward,” Sigrid replied, but she took his arm anyway.

“I wonder how big a reward,” Legolas mused.

“Perhaps a duchy,” Éomer replied. “There's one going spare.”

“There is?” Sigrid asked, surprised.

“Why yes,” he said, smiling down at her. “After all, I doubt Tauriel will have much use for it.” He nodded to some of the guards outside. “Stay here and keep an eye on those two in there,” he nodded his head towards Arwen and Éowyn. “They're basically under house arrest until my brother decides what to do with them.”

~ ~ ~

Thranduil was waiting on the steps when they came back. Somehow, he had known that they were successful. Tauriel tumbled off the horse they had lent her and went straight to him and he enfolded her in his arms, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her into the palace. Their wedding was several months later, and many people said they'd never seen a happier affair. By some unknown means, the smashed shoe had been fixed the night before the wedding, with a little note lying next to it saying, _Try not to break it next time._ The green shoes went a little oddly with the white dress Tauriel was wearing, but she had refused to wear anything else. The Ladies Arwen and Éowyn had been exiled from the country, and nobody ever heard of them ever again. Tauriel and Thranduil lived, if not happily _forever_ after, then at least happily until the end of their lives.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually quite like Arwen and Éowyn as characters, but I was couldn't think of any suitable names for the characters. Tolkien didn't really write an awful lot of female characters, so I had to co-opt some I actually liked and turn them into the bad ones for this story.  
> The same goes for Éomer actually, I needed another blond man with a suitably impressive name and he was the first one I came up with. Hopefully I'll be updating soon, but GCSE's officially start in a week (aahh!) so I'm not sure.


	6. A feather dusting my heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if any of you were expecting another chapter in the 'Say I love you' story, but I've hit a block with that and when I do post it it will probably become a story in it's own right. This is a kind of soul mates oneshot thing, please enjoy.

Thranduil had always known that his father had been disappointed in his son's soul mark. Most kings and princes had marks of majestic creatures like dragons or stags or a phoenix, something that symbolized the person who was their soul mate. Thranduil's mark was a simple feather over his heart. It screamed louder than words that his soul mate was not of royal standing, but a simple elleth of the woodland realm. Instead of acknowledging this, Oropher chose to make Thranduil hide it and as soon as he was grown he married him off to one of his friends daughters. Maliel she was called and she had no mark at all, some people just didn't.

Fortunately, Maliel didn't resent Thranduil because of their forced marriage and before long they became very close friends. They didn't love each other in the sense of soul mates of course, they could not, for Thranduil's heart ever belonged to another and Maliel had never needed nor wanted a romantic partner, but they grew to appreciate and love the other as much as they could under the circumstances. When Legolas was born, both Thranduil and Maliel breathed a quiet sigh of relief when his soul mark formed. A phoenix stretched across his back and Thranduil gladly informed the public of this.

~ ~ ~

When Maliel died Thranduil grieved terribly for her. She was the only person who had ever really understood him, for many of the elves had whispered of their King's unusual mark and he felt that he couldn't turn to anyone for aid. Legolas naturally missed his mother and for years he would climb into Thranduil's bed in the middle of the night, his face covered with the sheen of tears. As he grew older, he spoke often of his friend Tauriel and her seeming marklessness as she never spoke of her soul mark like other children did. He also bemoaned the fact that no one he knew had a soul mark of a phoenix and indeed no one knew of anyone with a mark like Legolas'.

When he was old enough to understand, Thranduil sat Legolas down and explained to him about what had happened between him and Maliel. In the same breath he also promised his son that nothing like that would ever happen to him. When Legolas asked to see his soul mark however, he refused. “You would look for someone else with a mark like mine,” Thranduil explained softly. “It would be instinctive, but I no longer wish to find my soul mate Legolas, I am quite content as I am.”

“But Ada,” Legolas said.

“No buts Legolas. Perhaps one day you may understand.” It was a lie of course, but he didn't want Legolas to think he was unhappy with his life.

~ ~ ~

Eventually, the day came when Legolas' friend Tauriel wished to join the guard. Thranduil interviewed her as he did all of the trainees. “Do you have a mark?” he asked. The girl's hand rose unconsciously to cover the back of her neck.

“Yes, my King,” she replied.

“You may look for your soul mate as you wish, but do not let it interfere with your duties, the protection of the people comes first, is that clear?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Very well. Follow Legolas, he will show you the ropes.” With a wave of his hand Thranduil dismissed the girl. He had long ago stopped thinking about soul marks and soul mates, but he knew that most elves did not share that opinion and he was not so cruel as to stop his guards from searching for their soul mate. His chest itched and he scratched at it idly.

~ ~ ~

Thranduil had many more meetings with Tauriel as she rose through the ranks of the guards, eventually becoming a Captain. They often disagreed and Thranduil knew he must appear cold and unforgiving in her eyes, but he had lost far too many people in his life to risk losing another. Every time he met with her though, his soul mark itched. Thranduil refused to think what that meant, and he also refused to think what it meant that Tauriel often scratched the back of her neck when she met with him. Tauriel was brave and impulsive where Maliel had been quiet and thoughtful and Thranduil found that he often enjoyed the disagreements they had, as so few people argued with him any more. She was Legolas' friend though, nothing more to him.

When Thranduil learnt that not only had Tauriel left the safety of the palace but she had taken his son with her he was furious. The fury was mostly cover for his fear, but he acted convincingly enough that most people cringed away from him for his temper was famous. He brought aid to Bard the Bowman as he wished to wage war on the dwarves that had stolen his peace, but also so that he had an army that would look out for his son. It was true what he said to Bard though, there were gems of pure starlight in the mountain, gems that he had once given to Maliel and that the dwarves had cruelly stolen. He did not have much left of her so he would treasure all he had. The battle was much fiercer than he thought though, and Thranduil was pretty sure that he was injured, but he paid it no attention. The important thing was to find his son, and possibly Tauriel before either of them got themselves killed, he would not lose another member of his family, not today. It was a long trek to Ravenhill and Thranduil could feel himself tiring, but he made it. He made it too late however, to save any of Durin's heirs and he found Legolas, thankfully still in one piece, watching Tauriel talk to a dying dwarf.

~ ~ ~

When Legolas said that he was heading out into the world, Thranduil was truly not surprised. His son had always dreamed of far off places and people. “You are still looking for your soul mate, are you not?” Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded.

“Go to Rivendell and ask Elrond,” Thranduil said. “He may know of whom you seek.” As Legolas turned to leave, Thranduil wished to take his son into his arms as he had when he was young, but he knew that the walls he had built between them were too strong. “Legolas,” he said. “Your mother loved you. More than anything. More than life.” It was the closest he could get to an honest, open acknowledgement of love for his son. After that, he moved closer to where Tauriel was weeping.

“He was so young,” Tauriel said softly. “Children should not have to die in wars.”

 _No one should have to die in wars_ , Thranduil thought, but he didn't say it. “I cannot imagine he would have been content to wait at home,” he said instead.

“I know,” Tauriel replied. “But still …” She bent to place a kiss on the dwarf's forehead and her hair shifted. Thranduil froze. There, on the back of her neck, half hidden by her hair and armour was a soul mark. A simple feather. The twin to the one that rested above his heart and it was glowing gold. Tauriel rose and turned to face him, the blood draining from her face as she did so. For a single, irrational moment he thought that she could see his own soul mark. He did not want to tie such a young person to him, not when he was so broken and damaged. “My King, you are hurt!” Thranduil looked down and saw that the blood was now seeping through his armour.

“Ah,” he said. Tauriel grabbed his hand and led him to the wall.

“Sit down and lean against this,” she said and Thranduil, feeling incredibly drained and tired, did as she said. Tauriel began to unbuckle his armour, sending his butler, Galion, who had followed him to Ravenhill, for a healer. Thranduil tried to stop her, but she ignored his protests. Underneath his breastplate, Thranduil's shirt was badly torn, showing the wound in his side. “I need something to stop the bleeding,” Tauriel muttered looking around.

“Use this,” Thranduil replied, plucking at his shirt and forgetting for a moment why he didn't want her to see his chest. “It's ruined anyway.”

“It is a bit,” Tauriel agreed, ripping a large swath from his shirt. They both froze as it revealed the feather shaped mark just over his heart that was also glowing. After a moment of simply staring, Tauriel decided that she could deal with that later and pressed the cloth to his wound.

Thankfully, a healer appeared not soon after that, taking charge and Tauriel was relegated to helping keep guard. The healer had noticed the glowing mark on his King's chest, but decided not to make a fuss about it. He did however, notice that young Tauriel kept itching the back of her neck. Neither Galion nor the healer objected when Thranduil demanded rather woozily that Tauriel stay with him, although Galion threw his cloak around the King so that his mark stayed a secret. They didn't know why it was a secret, but they respected that he wished to keep it as one. While Tauriel was given a couple of odd looks, most simply assumed that she was there to guard the King from any attacks.

~ ~ ~

The healers worked for two hours to stabilise Thranduil's condition and more than one was heard to mutter disparagingly about proud Kings who didn't ask for help when they needed it. Tauriel spent those two hours pacing outside the tent and scratching the back of her neck. Although she had noticed it itching before when she met with the King, she had assumed it was just nerves and now that the bond had been (partly) acknowledged it seemed to itch even more. Tauriel stopped dead as everything that had happened in the past few hours finally sunk in. If she was correct, she was the King's soelan-soeliin, the twin to his soul. ( _Literally translates as soul-twin)_ Would that make her Queen, or simply his consort? Would he even acknowledge it at all? What would Legolas think? Oh, she was in a hell of a mess. Once again she traced the glowing lines on her neck. And to think she'd known her soul mate all this time without realising it! The elves back home would go into an uproar when they found out. Although, her second in command, Faolin, had always said the King liked her and she had always said he was touched in the head, but she could apologise about that later.

Before she could get even further into her thoughts, the healers filed out of the tent and Galion followed. “He's asking for you,” he said. Tauriel swallowed hard and then headed into the tent. Galion closed the flap behind her and stood guard outside, making sure that no one got in. Thranduil's tent was massive, Tauriel looked around enviously. _Her_ tent was probably as large as the bed Thranduil was lying on. He was propped up by pillows and his face was pale but his eyes were as bright as ever. He beckoned her over and she walked to the side of his bed, more than slightly surprised when he took her hand. Thranduil lifted his other hand to her hair.

“May I?” Tauriel nodded and turned her head so that when he lifted her hair he could see the mark on the back of her neck. He touched it ever so lightly with the tips of his fingers and Tauriel shivered. It felt like someone had run their fingers across her soul. Thranduil sighed. “Our marks match Tauriel, do you have any idea what this means?” He pulled her to sit next to him on the bed, his hand still touching her mark.

“I have some idea,” Tauriel replied, placing her free hand lightly on his chest where his mark was. Thranduil drew in a breath as Tauriel touched his chest. Even through cloth he could feel her fingers touch his very soul. His mark glowed brightly, shining through the cloth and Thranduil could see a similar light shine from Tauriel's mark. The light dimmed and Thranduil felt something snap into place, like his soul had suddenly exhaled. The itching of his mark abruptly stopped and he was no longer so afraid of tying her to him. Tauriel stared at her fingers for a moment and then looked up, meeting Thranduil's eyes. “What does this mean for me Thranduil?” she asked. Thranduil smiled a little when he heard her use his name.

“I … I don't really know,” he replied. “My last marriage was arranged by my father, no King before me has been in this position; they all married their soul mates when they met them and nobody else.” Tauriel drew in a sharp breath and looked at Thranduil with glittering eyes.

“You … you would marry me?” Thranduil blinked, clearly there had been a communication error somewhere.

“Of course, what else would I do? Unless ... you would prefer me not to?” he asked with a sudden attack of nerves.

“Of course I would prefer it! It's just, I thought … I am only a guard … my sister said no one would want me, my mark is too plain …” Tauriel seemed to be on the verge of tears. Thranduil gently disentangled his fingers from hers and reached up to cup her face.

“I have wanted you for nigh on six thousand years now, soelan-soeliin and now that I have found you I do not plan on letting you go.” Tauriel's tears spilled over and Thranduil drew her head down to rest on his chest, his hand finding hers once more. That was how Galion found them half an hour later when he had finally grown tired of waiting outside. They were both fast asleep so he gently covered Tauriel with a blanket and and went to find some guards to keep watch outside the tent.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this really fast so if it seems rushed and if there are any mistakes that I have missed please let me know. Thank you!  
> On the plus side, GCSE's are now finished, so I should be posting more. On the down side, I'm really, really lazy :( Sorry about that.  
> For anyone who wanted to know, Aragorn was Legolas' soul mate and I may or may not write a sequel to this at some point.


	7. Dreaming of another life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, sorry for the long wait, but college is CRAZY! This chapter's only quite short, but i do have two much longer ones waiting for me to finish them. Hopefully that will be soon. I hope you all enjoy it :)

Thranduil had known for a long time that he didn't fit in this world of new technology and no magic. He couldn't quite remember his past life, but every night he dreamt about something different, and he knew that it was that world that he belonged in, not this one. He looked different in this world as well; he was shorter with dark hair and rounded, human ears. In essence, he looked less like a King and more like a mere businessman. That wasn't to say that his business wasn't doing well, on the contrary, it was doing excellently, but then some habits are hard to break.

Strangely, for the first half of his life, he had been completely normal. Sure, he had a strange name, and he'd insisted his son be named with an equally strange one, but it had only been after the death of his wife that the memories had started coming back. Perhaps triggered by the same guilt and sadness that he had felt after his wife's death in his last life. Perhaps the only good thing to come out of it was that he made sure not to make the same mistakes twice, so this time around he made sure not to shut Legolas out, although in the end the boy still left to see the world, but they were closer this time.

He had met a few of the people he had known in Arda, some who he knew right away and others whose names were only tantalizingly familiar, nagging at the back of his mind. Thankfully, he hadn't met any of those blasted dwarves in this life, although they were sure to turn up at some point. The one person he hadn't met yet, and the one he really, really hoped would show up soon was someone entirely unexpected.

At night, his dreams were haunted by a red-headed elf with fire in her eyes. Last time, Oakenshield's thrice-damned nephew had stolen him from her before he'd even had a chance, and then he'd had the impertinence to die and leave her with a broken heart all her days, instead of living and becoming so obnoxious that she renounced him. But he couldn't for the life of him remember her name! It was infuriating. He knew it began with a T. T … something. He had tried to discreetly ask Legolas a couple of times, as she had been one of his closest friends, but the boy appeared to remember nothing about his past life and so he had drawn a blank.

~ ~ ~

Thranduil was on his way home from work one day, with these thoughts on his mind, when he pulled up outside a café, meaning to get a coffee and a snack, as it had been a long day at work. He ordered his coffee in a state of absent-mindedness, preoccupied by a nagging feeling that there was something he ought to be doing. He'd paid for his coffee, and was heading for the door in a similarly vague fashion, when he quite literally walked into someone.

“Oh!” Luckily he managed not to spill any coffee on them. “I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.” He looked down and trailed off. She had shorter brown hair and a more human face and she was certainly older, almost his age. “ _Tauriel?”_ he asked incredulously, the name springing to his mind as he stared at her. She only stared back, and he sighed with disappointment. She didn't remember him. “Sorry, you reminded me off someone I used to know.”

Thranduil was halfway to his car when he heard a voice behind him. “Wait!” It was her voice, he'd know it in the middle of a thunderstorm. Preparing himself for disappointment, he turned around and was astonished when she barrelled straight into his arms and threw her arms around his neck. “I'm so glad you found me, Thranduil,” she said. “I thought I was going mad, no one else remembers!” Carefully disentangling Tauriel's arms from around his neck, Thranduil placed his coffee on the roof of his car and tried to think of what to say. He had  _not_ expected it to go like this.

“Not even your dwarf?” he asked, and then cursed himself for being so tactless.

“Killi?” she made a face. “No, and I've met him in this life. He's an obnoxious ass. He's also only in secondary school.” Thranduil took a sip of his coffee to hide his smile. Tauriel fiddled with a lock of hair, a habit she'd clearly never managed to break. “I … um. I … don't suppose I could come round for coffee some time?” she asked, tugging on the lock of hair. “I can't really talk to anyone else.”

“I'm free this evening,” Thranduil replied, hardly believing the words coming out of his mouth. “Legolas isn't there though, he doesn't remember.” Tauriel smiled.

“Thank you. I feel so alone sometimes.” She stood on her tiptoes to press a daring kiss to his cheek. “And it isn't Legolas that I want to talk to.” Thranduil nearly inhaled his coffee and even as he opened the car door for her, his fingers came up to touch the spot on his cheek where she'd kissed him. Well, this was going to be difficult to explain to Legolas.

 


	8. The last night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on the song 'The Last Night' by Skillet and I thought it just fitted them perfectly. Sorry for not updating for so long, but life is nuts at the moment.  
> Tauriel and Thranduil are about eighteen in this, just starting Uni.

It was ten o'clock at night when Thranduil got a call on his mobile. He fumbled for his phone, dread spiking when he saw the name. _Tauriel._ He nearly punched himself in the face in his effort to bring the phone to his ear. Tauriel had been his best friend since primary school (and he'd had a crush on her for nearly as long) and in that time he'd worked out that her home life wasn't exactly perfect. Born to a father who wanted a son and a mother who was a doormat she'd been told all her life that she wasn't enough. After her horrific break up with Killi last year it had gotten even worse and about six months ago now Thranduil had found her on the bathroom floor sobbing her heart out with a razor blade in one hand and scars on her wrist. He'd patched her up, dried her tears, promised not to tell anybody and beaten the living hell out of Killi for what he'd done. It had gotten him into no small amount of trouble with the other boy's family, but as far as he was concerned it was worth it.

“Hey Tauriel what's - ”

“I can't do this anymore, Thran.” Terror sparked down his spine and Thranduil stood, looking for his shoes.

“Can't do what Tae?”

“I … I … I can't live like this anymore.” _Where were the damn shoes!?_ “Why is nothing I do ever enough?”

“'Cause your Dad's an – idiot.” Thranduil's father looked down on swearing and his eldest son had never grown out of the habit of watching his words.

“I … I … Thran …” She was sobbing on the other end of the phone, and Thranduil jammed his feet into a random pair of shoes, grabbing his car keys. “I … I can't stay here.”

“Damn right you can't. Pack a bag Tae. You're moving in with me until your parents get their act together.”  
“Wh – what?” House keys in his pocket, car keys in his hand and phone wedged between his shoulder and ear Thranduil pulled the front door shut and thanked any Gods out there that his father was rich and had brought him a flash car.

“I'm coming to get you, Tae. Pack a bag and … don't do anything stupid.” He hung up before she answered and stamped on the throttle. No way in hell was he leaving Tauriel there.

Fifteen minutes later Thranduil was pulling up outside Tauriel's house. Her father wrenched open the door almost as soon as he knocked. He'd never met the man before, since he'd never been home when Thranduil had been invited round. It wasn't an auspicious first meeting. “What the hell are you doing knocking on my door at this -”

“I'm here for Tauriel,” Thranduil replied, eyeing the man with distaste.

“What?” Thranduil brushed past him impatiently and headed for the stairs, taking them three at a time. Again, he thanked the Gods that he'd been to Tauriel's house before so that he knew his way around. She was sat on her bed, her phone in one hand and tear tracks down her face. “Tae?” he asked, crouching down so his face was level with hers. “Did you pack a bag?” She looked blankly at him for a moment and then pointed to the gym bag at the end of the bed. Thranduil grabbed it in one hand and wrapped the other around Tauriel's waist. He wanted to get her away from here. Tauriel's dad accosted them half-way down the stairs.

“Tauriel! What exactly is this boy doing in my house?” Tauriel shrank away from her father, and Thranduil felt anger rise up his throat when he looked at him.

“I am Thranduil Opherion,” he replied coldly, viciously glad to see the man pale. He knew the name then. “Tauriel is my friend and since you apparently couldn't care less what happens to your daughter she's coming with me.” That startled him enough that Thranduil managed to push past him and continue down the stairs.

Tauriel revived a bit in the car. “You didn't have to do that Thran,” she said softly.

“I did,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “You can't honestly tell me that place was good for you, Tae. You're my friend and, frankly, you're a wreck. I was worried about you.” Tauriel didn't say anything else.

When they got back to Thranduil's house he parked the car and picked up Tauriel's bag, leading her into the house. “Is your father not back yet?” she asked, looking around. Thranduil shook his head and tossed her bag into a chair.

“No, he said he'd be back late tonight.” Tauriel nodded and then collapsed on the sofa and hid her face. Thranduil sat next to her.

“What's wrong Tae? You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It's just …” Tauriel sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I got my A-Level results yesterday.” Thranduil nodded cautiously.

“I know, I remember you telling me. You did really well.” Tauriel had taken English Language, Biology, Psychology and Maths for her A-Levels and she'd got a least an A in all of them.

“Dad doesn't think so. I was really proud Thran, and I showed him my results but …” she sniffed again. “He kept going on about how I should have done better, even though I was top of the class, and that I wouldn't get into Oxford like he did and … and how I was a failure and he wished I'd been born a boy.”

“He would,” Thranduil grated. “Tauriel you did wonderfully in your A-Levels, your Dad's opinion shouldn't matter.”

“But it does!” She threw herself into his arms and curled up, shaking. “I just want to make him proud,” she said, in such a small voice he barely heard her. Thranduil cursed her father to the very depths of hell and stroked her hair, trying to figure out what to say. After a moment Tauriel sat up. “You didn't have to do this you know, Thran. I know you're stressed about Uni and I'm not really worth it -” As far as Thranduil was concerned, that was the absolute limit. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her, hard.

“Will you listen to yourself Tae!” He yelled. Tauriel looked at him, shocked. “You're not worthless. That's your father speaking, and you're far too good to parrot him. You are worth every second I spend worrying about you, Tauriel. Every. Damn. Second. So stop selling yourself short.” Tauriel stared at him for another long second and then green eyes began to fill with tears.

“I'm not though,” she argued. “I'm really not. Even Killi used to say so.”

“That -” Thranduil started, but she held up her hand.

“No, stop. Listen. He used to say that I wasn't worth the time he spent on me, that the least I could do was cater for him like a woman should …” Thranduil needed to pace. Untangling himself from Tauriel he stood and began to stride across the room. Tauriel watched him, green eyes still filled with tears.

“Geez, Tae, and you believed him? Why did you never tell me this? That's trash if I ever heard it.”

“That's what I said,” Tauriel replied, ignoring his questions. “My mum doesn't wait on Dad hand and foot so I wasn't going to wait on him.” Thranduil nodded. Good. Tauriel didn't say anything else though and, slowly, thoughts began to filter through his anger and worry. Killi wasn't the type to just let something like that go. He came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the living room and turned to face her.

“What did he say then?” Tauriel gave him a bitter smile.

“He lost his temper. He yelled at me and said that I was a no good slut -” Thranduil winced at the language. “- and that see if anyone wanted me now.” Thranduil was staring at her now, trying desperately to think of something to say in the face of all that. Tauriel was still talking. “I didn't believe him at first, but he must be right -” she never got any further. In two long strides Thranduil crossed the room and pinned her to the back of the sofa, kissing her and trying to put as much of his feelings into it as he could.

“I want you Tauriel,” he said softly, pulling back and kneeling next to her. “Heck, I've had a crush on you since junior school. Killi was just spewing trash. Don't believe what he says.” Tauriel stared at him and then lunged forwards, kissing him again. The motion sent Thranduil toppling and he ended up on his back on the sofa with Tauriel lying on top of him.

“It's all very well you saying this stuff now Thran,” she said, laying her head on his chest. “But I'll have to go back home eventually. You can't always be here.”

“I'll always be there for you, Tae,” he replied, stroking her hair again. “I promise. I'll never ever leave you. I'll be your friend forever.

“Forever,” she repeated, remembering a years old promise made in a playground between two six-year-olds.

“Forever,” he repeated firmly. “Whatever comes Tae, I'll _always_ be there.”

 

It was nearing midnight when Oropher finally got home. He opened the door as silently could and turned the living room light on at it's lowest level. His son had a habit of waiting up for him and then falling asleep on the sofa and he didn't want to wake him. To his surprise, Thranduil wasn't the only one asleep on the sofa. Thranduil's red-headed friend, Tauriel was lying next to him, and he had his arms wrapped around her. Gold and red mixed together and Oropher smiled tiredly; he'd rarely seen his son look so peaceful. Carefully, he picked up a blanket from the back of one of the chairs and covered them with it before heading upstairs. Whatever it was that had Tauriel and his son lying on the sofa asleep in each other's arms could wait until a more reasonable hour.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :) I actually rather like Killi as a character, which I realise doesn't come across much in my writing, so I'm kinda sad I had to make him like this, but it was the only thing that worked. I have a much longer drabble that is nearly finished. I've got about a hundred words left to write, but I've hit some serious writers block. Sigh. Hopefully I'll finish it soon though.


	9. Wine, wine and yet more wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one is decidedly odd. I had this really weird idea in my head about Thranduil and Tauriel getting drunk together and it just kept coming up so in the end I wrote it down. This is what happened. There's no real point to it, except I think I may have cured my writer's block at long last. *fingers crossed*  
> Hope you enjoy it :)

Thranduil wandered the halls of his palace, wine glass in one hand and a bottle of Dorwinion wine in the other. Memories had driven him from the Beltane celebration, for it had been the same night, nigh on seven hundred years ago now that he had met his wife. While the pain of her death had dulled over the years, he still found it hard to be joyous when he was forever expecting to round the corner and see her again. He wandered out onto a balcony to get some fresh air and paused, surprised to find it already occupied. By Tauriel. And she was alone, which was in some ways even more surprising. Thranduil had found it almost impossible to ignore the looks his Captain of the Guard garnered from the other elves, even as he fiercely denied that the bitterness swirling in his stomach was jealousy. “My lord,” Tauriel said, turning to face him and bowing slightly. He noticed the distant look on her face, and guessed that her thoughts turned in the same direction his did.

“Tauriel,” he replied. “Mourning your dwarf?” He hadn't meant to say that, but wine had always loosened his tongue. Luckily she didn't seem to take offence.

“No, not really,” she replied, turning back to look at the stars. “It's just … I loved Killi, I really did, but …” she sighed. “I didn't really know him. I feel like my love for him was never really realised. It was a dream.” Thranduil handed her his wine glass and lent against the balcony next to her.

“And there are no handsome young guardsmen willing to celebrate with you?” He couldn't have said why he was pursuing this line of questioning; the wine was making his head a little fuzzy and he didn't want to examine his thoughts too closely.

“What? Oh, no, there are probably plenty. At least, I think so, but …” she trailed off and looked up at him, confused. “I don't know.”

“Drink,” Thranduil suggested, helpfully topping up her wine glass. “It makes everything matter less.” Tauriel laughed at that and took a sip of the wine.

 

“I met my wife at a Beltane celebration,” Thranduil said abruptly. They were on their second bottle of wine, Thranduil once more drinking out of the bottle and conceding the glass to Tauriel. She just listened, waiting for him to continue. “I thought she was one of the Valar come down to Arda, except I could not decide which one.” A faint smile crossed his face at the memories. “In a way, I can sympathise with you, Tauriel, for we were together only a scant century before she passed, although I have often thought it may have been better that way.” He paused to take a sip from the bottle, now significantly emptier than it had been five minutes ago. “I was infatuated with her, but I'm beginning to think it was just that: infatuation. As it was we were still in the honeymoon phase when she died, which was probably better than me realising later that I didn't really love her.” He'd never told anyone else this before, but it was strangely easy to pour his heart out to the red-headed elf at his side. It was probably the wine.

“That's a pessimistic view.” Tauriel frowned at her empty glass and grabbed his wrist so she could tilt the bottle in his hand and pour herself some more wine. Thranduil quelled the shiver that sprang from her touch and shouted down the thoughts in his head that suggested it was more than that. Tauriel was still talking. “Maybe it would have blossomed into the grand kind of love you get in tales.” She waved her arms to emphasise her point, slopping wine over the edge of her glass and nearly splashing Thranduil with it. “We all thought so, we all assumed that's why you were so cold, that you were mourning her still.” Having long since acquired a thick skin against insults, Thranduil was surprised that Tauriel's remark about him being cold stung so.

“No, nothing so romantic. When my father and Maliel died, I cut myself off from the world and when my grief faded I found I had lost the habit of socialising.”

“That's just stupid,” Tauriel said, scrunching up her nose. Thranduil smiled, catching her attention. “You ought to smile more,” she told him. “It makes you look handsomer.” The tips of Thranduil's ears turned red and he raised the bottle to his lips to avoid answering that and discovered it was empty.

“We've run out of wine,” he said.

“What, again?”

“You there!” he said, gesturing to a servant going past with half a bottle on a tray. “Fetch Tauriel and I some more wine.” The servant (who privately thought that the King and the Captain had had far too much wine) handed him the half bottle he was carrying and headed to the kitchens while Thranduil topped up Tauriel's glass again. She gave him a peculiar look and then raised her glass.

“To lost loves,” she said, toasting those they had lost.

“And new ones,” he agreed, raising the bottle. She lent against him slightly, clearly more affected by the wine even though he'd drunk the most.

~ ~ ~

“That servant's taking forever with out wine,” Thranduil grumbled, peering into his bottle. Tauriel giggled and jumped off the balcony, swaying slightly.

“Let's go to the kitchens and get some ourselves,” she suggested. Thranduil readily agreed, for he found it incredibly hard to say no to her and the two of them headed off down the corridor. Although Thranduil had indisputably drunk more than her, Tauriel was the most affected, as she was much smaller and lighter than him and she'd never had much of a head for wine in the first place. To keep her upright Thranduil had an arm around her waist and the two of them staggered down the corridors – for he was none too steady either.

Frowning, Tauriel stopped abruptly. “This isn't the way to the kitchens,” she said.

“Oh,” Thranduil replied, fighting the impulse to tell her she looked adorable when she frowned.

“Perhaps we should have tried down the stairs instead of up them?” Tauriel asked, trying to remember which route they'd taken.

“Perhaps,” Thranduil agreed, looking around. Then his face brightened. “Oh, I know where we are; we're near my chambers.” He took Tauriel's hand and began tugging her along. “Come on, I have some wine there as well.” Tauriel followed him, trying to reckon up how much she'd drunk. It must have been a lot for her to be seriously considering getting drunk with the King in his chambers.

Thranduil did indeed have wine in his chambers. In fact, he practically had his own wine cellar. Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged. “Some of this wine is older than I am, Tauriel. If I'd left it in the normal wine cellar it would have been drunk years ago.” He frowned slightly in annoyance. “Some people have no appreciation of a good wine.” Tauriel laughed and tried to come over to choose a wine but ended up collapsing on the sofa. Thranduil smiled and grabbed a random bottle before coming over and joining her.

It was very late by the time Tauriel looked around again. Late enough that it should, by all rights, be very early. In the four or so hours they had been in his chambers time had fled as they'd talked about everything and anything, probably helped by all the wine they had drunk. Tauriel had lost count long ago. She only knew that each time Thranduil stood up to get another bottle he'd been progressively more and more off balance until he'd ended up clinging onto the walls for support while she laughed hysterically. “Tauriel?” Thranduil asked, catching her hands. His words were only slightly slurred, but his walls had come down and she could see the concern in his gaze.

“I should go,” she said. Thranduil's face fell.

“At least finish this last bottle of wine with me?” he asked, holding it up. They'd long since dispensed with using glasses after Thranduil nearly poured wine over the two of them and were now just drinking it out of the bottle.

“I really ought to go,” Tauriel said, but made no move to stand. Thranduil frowned and tugged her over so she lay sprawled against his side.

“You can't even stand,” he objected. “You'd never get back to your rooms in one piece.”

“But -”

“Stay. Please.” How could she say no to that? Tauriel shifted into a more comfortable position with her head against Thranduil's shoulder. The bottle was passed back and forth until it was empty, but then neither of them could deal with the bother of getting another one.

It wasn't long before Thranduil heard a soft snore and he looked down to see that Tauriel was fast asleep. He smiled and gathered her into his arms, standing with no small amount of effort. He eventually managed to get both of them to his bed and lay Tauriel down so that she was in a comfortable position. He lay down next to her for a moment because the wine was making his head spin. He'd just lie here for a moment. Just a … moment …

The moonlight shone in on two motionless sleeping forms on the bed.

 

~ ~ ~

 

It was nearly noon by the time the King's butler, Galion, entered the King's chambers. Even after a party like the one they had last night he tended to be up by now. Still, Galion walked quietly and carefully. The King tended to overindulge on Beltane night to try and drown the memories and he usually had a raging hangover the next morning. Galion did raise and eyebrow at the sheer number of bottles by the sofa though. Yes Thranduil drank a lot, but never usually this much. It would explain why he wasn't up yet though. Leaving the bottles for the moment, he crept towards the King's bedroom with a frown on his face. If he had to call the healers for alcohol poisoning … again …

What he did see was perhaps even more surprising. The King lay on his bed, still fast asleep as far as Galion could see and curled up next to him lay the Captain of the Guard, her head resting on his shoulder. Well, that certainly explained all the bottles. Shaking his head Galion left the headache potion he'd brought with him on the King's bedside table and tiptoed out again. There should be enough for both of them there, providing whoever woke up first didn't drink all of it.

 


	10. Tell her you love her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll today. Fingers crossed I've finally managed to beat my writers block, although I wouldn't hold your breath. This chapter's another kinda weird one, I've been having a lot of strange ideas lately. Hope you enjoy :)

Elrond looked at his old friend and wondered if a tiny bit of criticism would go amiss. Under the guise of an international meeting Thranduil had come to ask advice from his old friend, but he was proud and unlikely to look favourably on what Elrond had to say. He sighed. “What is it?” Thranduil asked.

“Pardon?” Elrond said.

“You've been sighing and sneaking glances at me for the past ten minutes. Has my glamour fallen down or something?” Thranduil reached up to touch his left cheek, as if to reassure himself that his scar wasn't showing. Elrond jumped on the opening.

“That's what I wanted to talk about, actually.” Thranduil raised an eyebrow at that.

“I fail to see what this has to do with my problem.”

“Not directly, but Thranduil,” Elrond lent forward and looked earnestly at his friend, “It is a myth that elves can only love once, many of us have fallen in love over and over again. Maliel wouldn't have wanted this you know, she would want you to move on and find love again.” Thranduil looked away, his hand tightening on his wine glass, but Elrond ignored the danger signs. “And Thranduil, she is dead, in body and soul, you will never see her again, not if you sail to the Undying Lands, nor if you die. You will be alone for all eternity.”

“You think I don't know that?” Thranduil turned to the other elf, his blue eyes flashing. “But Tauriel is younger than Legolas! She is everything I'm not and I won't tie her to someone as broken as me.”

“Thran … age does not matter when you live as long as we do, besides, from the amount of battle you say she has seen I doubt that she is as innocent and unbroken as you seem to believe.”

“I didn't come here for this, I wanted advice about how to deal with … this.” Thranduil waved his hand in the air, gesturing vaguely. “Not the same romantic drivel I got from my son.” Elrond lent back in his chair and fixed his friend with a look.

“You mean you wanted to hear your own opinions in a different voice?” There was silence.

“Yes,” Thranduil admitted, finally. “If you agreed with me then I wouldn't have to face the truth.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Elrond simply waited. Thranduil had come to him for a reason, and he knew his friend; the whole story would come out soon. The other elf sighed and his shoulders drooped, his head bowing against the weight of the silence. “I forbade him to speak of it to her, Legolas, he thinks I am wrong, but I don't think she has any feelings for me. We argue all the time, and her points are valid, she would be a skilled adviser, but I have already favoured her so much. I do not wish her to feel that she has not earned her place as Captain.”

“But if she does return your feelings, will you not be doing her more harm by ignoring her?” Thranduil gave a harsh laugh.

“Of course she does not, or if she does it is for the wrong reasons. I'm heartless, distant, injured, cut off from the rest of the world, how could she ever truly love me?”

“The same way that Maliel did,” Elrond replied quietly. “By being kind and curious enough to see past that mask that you wear to the heart you hide beneath. You are not heartless my friend, far from it in fact, but you portray it so well that sometimes people forget you are acting. If she knows Legolas then she will know the rumours of your heartlessness for the lies they are.” Thranduil looked at Elrond with defeated eyes.

“It may be as you say,” he replied, “but I cannot take the risk. Not yet. Not until I am sure. How could she ever serve under me knowing that I harboured unrequited … feelings for her? No, I must wait a little longer.”

“Wait any longer and you may not get your chance. She is young and beautiful my friend, and she will not wait for you forever, no matter how much she loves you.” Thranduil flinched almost imperceptibly. For the rest of the evening, they said nothing.

 

~ ~ ~

 

After what people had taken to calling the Battle of the Five Armies, Tauriel fled Mirkwood. She could not bear Legolas' look of betrayal, or the fact that his father had banished her from her home. She went to Lothlórien, for she doubted Killi's folk would shelter her and the Men of Dale had enough problems already. Lady Galadriel welcomed her, but her people were suspicious. Many said she had only pretended to love the dwarf to hide her feelings for Legolas and Tauriel could neither confirm nor deny the rumours. She _had_ tried to hide feelings for another in Killi's love for her, but they had not been directed at Legolas. The years passed, as years do and Tauriel heard rumours that the One Ring had been found again, and was held by a hobbit. The word hobbit brought to mind the great warrior that Killi had said had saved his Uncle. She could only hope this one was as strong as the one he had known.

When Lady Galadriel said Legolas was accompanying the Fellowship to Lothlórien, Tauriel knew she could not stay there. It had not even been a century since she had last seen him and she knew it took longer than that for feelings to fade. While everyone else was welcoming the guests, and talking of the scandal of a dwarf being allowed inside Lothlórien, Tauriel quietly stole away. She headed for Rivendell where she planned to stay until she had to move again. It was almost deserted as most of her kin had sailed for the Undying Lands, leaving these shores in droves. But Tauriel could not – would not – leave this land, not yet. Although she no longer lived there she still considered Mirkwood her home and she had hopes that one day she would be allowed to go back.

In Rivendell she managed to find a set of rooms that looked so like her old ones that it made her heart ache. She knew that Lord Elrond knew she was there, but as long as she stayed out of his way he seemed content to let her be. The battle for the freedom of Middle Earth began again, and part of Tauriel ached to be out there, defending her home land, but most of her didn't. She was still not fully over the last war she'd been in and the devastation it had wrought, she didn't need to add another, besides, one soldier would not make much difference against the odds they had to face.

Although she had never met him, Lord Elrond clearly knew her, for when he came across her in the library he greeted her by name.

“Tauriel.” She jumped to her feet and turned to face him.

“My Lord?” he waved her back into her seat and took one across from her.

“Your homeland is besieged,” he said softly. “Orcs swarm from Dol Guldor into the forest.” Tauriel looked down at her lap.

“Mirkwood is no longer my home,” she said, equally softly. “The King made that quite clear.” Lord Elrond raised and eyebrow.

“He regretted that order as soon as he sent it.” Tauriel froze. “For years he sent missives to the Lady Galadriel and I, asking if you had been found, but she would not have replied if you did not wish her to. He spoke in haste and anger, as he often has, and he has always regretted it afterwards. He never meant to bar you from your homeland, certainly not for this long; it is one of the reasons many elves fade and he would not wish that on anyone.”

“But I betrayed him,” Tauriel's voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her all the same. Lord Elrond sighed as he took in the elf before him. So young, and yet so full of heart in this grim world. He should have told her, Elrond could see plain as day that she loved his old friend, and yet by not saying anything, he had allowed this to happen. She looked up at him. “Why are you telling me this, my Lord?”

“Because Thranduil is gravely injured.” Tauriel's face was as white as the pages she had been reading. “The healers do not think he has long. You should go to him.” The girl looked at him, her heart in her eyes.

“Ae seinal,” she whispered. ( _I cannot.)_

“ _Go to him,”_ Elrond said, leaning forwards and grasping her cold hands in his warm ones. “I cannot tell you if he will welcome you, but I can tell you that he's dying and you're all he's thinking of.” She stared at him. “I … It is not mine to tell, but we have so little time left, go to him, child. Le ireh don Valar alran sen ea.” ( _And may the Valar watch over you.)_

It took Tauriel an astonishingly small amount of time to get to Mirkwood, or maybe she just blanked out most of the journey. As soon as she reached the fringes of the forest she turned the horse loose and headed into the trees. She'd lived in this forest for most of her life, no orcs were going to catch her, not in these trees. The guards on gate duty did not seem surprised to see her, but considering they were all new recruits they probably didn't know who she was, so Tauriel made sure to stay out of the way of anyone who did know her. Everything she saw caused a dull ache in her chest; she had missed this place more than she cared to admit. She knew the way to the King's chambers, having often been sent there to report to the King, and she could only thank the Valar that she didn't see any healers when she slipped into his rooms.

“Who's there?” a voice called, and Tauriel barely recognised her King's voice, it was so tired.

“Eir ae, hir vuin,” she said, walking closer to the bed. ( _It's me, my lord.)_

“Tauriel?” And she could not deny the hope in his voice. Thranduil propped himself up on one arm as she approached the bed, and Tauriel had to hold in a shocked gasp. He looked dreadful. There were dark shadows under his eyes, his face had a greyish tinge and his eyes were clouded and dull. He reached out for her, and Tauriel hurried forwards, taking his hand in hers. He sported bandages on his left arm and side and he seemed thinner than when she had last seen him.

“Er ir ea,” ( _It is you.)_ he murmured softly. “Oh, I have missed you, my Tauriel. No one here will argue with me.” Tauriel managed a smile and he reached up to stroke her cheek. “I am glad you came, meleth-nin,” ( _my love)_ he said softly, making Tauriel gasp. “I am dying, and there are things I have to say to you.”

The door opened and Galion poked his head through, his eyes widening at the sight of Tauriel. “My Lord,” he began.

“Out,” Thranduil commanded. “You can tell me later, Galion.”

“But -”

“Out!” Galion bowed his head and left and Thranduil turned back to Tauriel, lying back on the pillows. “I suppose Elrond sent you?” he asked. At her nod he continued. “He knew of course, I went to him for advice when I first realised. He wanted me to tell you, but I could not, but I am past the point of caring now.”

“Tell me what?” Tauriel asked, her hand coming up to cradle the one on her cheek.

“I love you, meleth-nin,” he said softly. “I have for years now. If I had had my way, you would never have known, but time makes fools of us all in the end.” Tauriel stared at him, only aware of the tears dripping down her face when they began to fall on her lap.

“How long?” she whispered. “How long, my King, how long have you loved me?”

“Since you became Captain of the Guard,” he murmured, his eyes falling closed. “You can imagine how bitter I was, when I realised Legolas, of all people, had feelings for you. If you loved anyone, it would have been him.” His eyes started back open again when he felt soft lips against his.

“Nal bo, hir dua,” ( _Not so, my love)_ she whispered against his lips. “For I have loved you for at least as long.” Thranduil's hand slid up into her hair and he brought her head down again, kissing her properly and trying to put everything he felt into that kiss. Tauriel pulled away, although not very far and looked down at him sadly. “How long do you have?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Days, if not hours,” he murmured. “The orcs had poison on their blades, one far more potent than a Morgul blade.” Tauriel gave a bitter smile.

“All that time, wasted. We live forever, and yet we have no time. Could you have not told me sooner?”

“I was afraid.” He smiled, looking up into her eyes. “I did not believe you could love me, as bitter and broken as I was. When you went after the dwarf I thought my fears realised and banished you in a moment of anger and despair.” His smile turned bitter-sweet. “Forgive an old man his fears, meleth, I have so much more to fear than you.”

Since Thranduil did not seem to want to let her go, Tauriel climbed onto the bed next to him, arranging herself so she didn't aggravate any of his injuries. They talked for a while, her of life in Lothlórien and Rivendell and him of the frustrations of managing the throne. It wasn't long before he dropped off, and Tauriel was drifting off too, when she heard the door open. With Thranduil's arm still tight around her, she couldn't move, so she pretended to be asleep instead, to avoid the embarrassing inquiry of why she was lying next to the King.

“I am glad she is here,” said a voice that Tauriel recognised as Galion, the King's butler. “He has been impossible to deal with.”

“He should heal better too,” said the healer, Marie. “Before he had nothing left to live for, so he didn't fight the poison.”

“Damn fool that he is,” Galion agreed, his hands gentle as he laid a blanket over Tauriel. “Come, we should let them sleep. We can tell them the news later.”

Tauriel awoke to the sun shining in on her face, and for a moment she didn't know where she was, but then it all came back to her. She was lying in the circle of Thranduil's arms, as he'd clearly turned over in the night and when she tried to wriggle out of his grip his arms tightened around her.

“Stay,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest. Tauriel stared at him.

“Thranduil! You're healed?” he smiled down at her.

“Yes, that was the news Galion wanted to tell me. He is defeated, and the foul magic that was coating the blades has gone with him. At last, the Greenwood is free of his poison.” Tauriel smiled, and lent up to kiss him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, Legolas knew his father loved Tauriel when he fell in love with her, which is one of the reasons why Thranduil resolved never to tell her. Just to try and make everything clear :)


	11. I'll see you again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad with this one. Sorry.

Thranduil raced up towards Ravenhill, his heart pounding in his chest for far more than just exertion. Legolas had been fighting up here, Tauriel was with him last. She would be okay. She would be fine. She wouldn't have done anything stupid.

( _of course she'd have done something stupid, she's Tauriel and the dwarves are barely more than children, she'd have wanted to help them, to save them, especially the young ones, especially the dark-haired prince, the one who asked for her help in the first place.)_

He came tearing out onto an outcropping of rock and froze. An orc lay a few meters away with Tauriel's dagger embedded in his skull, a shocked dwarf standing by him, but Tauriel was all that filled his vision. She lay on her side, facing him, a large gash in her stomach. One look and he knew it was a fatal wound.

The whole world was frozen, only Thranduil's harsh breathing, the rude, uncultured jerks of his chest as he tried to get enough air. It seemed to last forever, but that was alright, because if everything froze forever then Tauriel wouldn't die.

“I – I'm so sorry,” the dwarf said. “I – I tried …”

Time started again with a whoosh and Thranduil moved towards Tauriel, ignoring the dwarf apart from a glare and an order to 'get his miserable excuse for a hide away from here before he joined the orc.' The dwarf gave him a startled look and then fled.

Casting his sword aside, Thranduil knelt next to Tauriel and lifted her into his arms, ignoring the blood that instantly coated his clothing. Her green eyes flickered up to meet his. “Thranduil … you came.” He said nothing, trying to get his breathing under control, but it wouldn't listen to him and continued to stutter in his chest. She lifted a hand to his face, and that was when Thranduil realised his glamour had come down. No wonder the dwarfling had fled. She looked up at him. “I'm sorry. I know you didn't want me to get hurt.” He reached up, holding her hand to his cheek. “I'll wait for you,” she promised, her eyes flickering shut. “In the halls of Mandos 'till the breaking of the world.”

“Tauriel, Tauriel.” it seemed to be all he could say.

“I'll see you again,” she promised, green eyes shutting for the last time. “ _I love you.”_

They said his wail of grief could be heard in Erebor.

He carried her down from Ravenhill, holding her cradled in his arms. Legolas followed him, his once light steps heavy and dragging. He knew his father didn't blame him for letting Tauriel get injured, but he blamed himself. No one looked at Thranduil's face. He had not bothered to put his glamour back up, but far more terrifying was the bleakness in his other eye. He laid her down in the healers tents and covered her with his own cloak, brushing her hair out of her face tenderly.

Thranduil went back to his work, aiding the restoration of Dale and Erebor, but he never put his glamour back up. Once he was done there, he retreated back to his Kingdom and ruled there, but all who saw him agreed:

The Elvenking had buried his heart that day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite short, but my exams are taking up a lot of my time, see you later.


	12. The Maiden and The Merman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has taken me a little over a year to write this story and it is over ten pages long, possibly one of the longest projects I've ever finished, certainly in terms of time, if not length. It's heavily based on a song I like, The maiden and the Selkie by Heather Alexander (I think that's the composer.) which the song lyrics throughout are based on. I hope you all enjoy.

Tauriel's family had lived on the edge of the sea for as long as anyone could remember. Some people even said, only half joking, that they were part mermaid, to account for their fondness of the sea. Whatever the reason, Tauriel's family had always made a living by the sea and very few considered other options. Her father and elder brothers were sailors, her uncle and cousins fishermen and her mother sold sea shells to whoever would buy them. Tauriel herself had always been a remarkable sailor and swimmer – and even a passing fair fisherman – but she had no intention of becoming a fisherman's wife. Ever since she was little she had loved her fathers stories of the sea and she held in her the same deep yearning that held his heart in thrall to the sea. Women however, could not become sailors, so Tauriel had to be content with what she had and often went seeking solace on the sea.

It was for this reason that she was heading down towards the beach on this rather overcast day. According to the women of the village, Tauriel was now of an age to be married and consequently, two of the village boys, Legolas and Killi, had been pursuing her for some time now. Legolas had been her friend ever since her childhood, but he was so much of a brother to her that she couldn't even consider the idea of marrying him. It was only because of their friendship that she hadn't laughed in his face, or lost her temper, but if rumour was correct he was now seeing Gloin's son anyway. Killi on the other hand, was a newcomer to the village as his family had moved there only a few years ago. Tauriel had never had much to do with him. He was a pompous, supercilious ass who thought himself god's gift to women and he had been known to get violent if a girl rejected him. The one time he had tried that with Tauriel she had knocked him head over heels with one punch; growing up with two brothers and several male cousins had taught her a lot about fighting, and consequently made Killi a lot warier of her. That was the main reason none of the other village boys approached her – most were scared stiff of her temper.

Muttering to herself under her breath, Tauriel pushed their small canoe off the beach and hoped in with a practised manoeuvre. The tide was coming in so Tauriel pulled out the oars and and began to head towards the lobster pots; she might as well do something useful while she was out here.

There weren't any lobsters in the pots, so she threw them back in and tried her luck with the fish traps, a clever invention of her uncle's. There were plenty of fish in the traps so Tauriel pulled them in. Her mother's one rule of fishing was 'you catch them, you clean them' so Tauriel began the arduous task of cleaning them. She was on the last one, and keeping more of an eye on the weather than her work, when her knife slipped on a scale and sliced her hand. She jerked away, surprised, and somehow managed to toss both blade and fish over the side.

Tauriel said a few words that would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap if her mother had been around to hear her and she leant over the side to peer into the murky depths. Her father had brought that knife back for her on one of his sailing trips and it was one of the most precious items she owned. She thought she saw a flash of something, but with her luck it was a fish that had missed the traps. With another curse she pressed her handkerchief against the cut in her palm and considered the situation. How the hell was she supposed to get home now?

“My Lady?” said a deep voice from behind her. “I believe you dropped this.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Once a fair and handsome seal lord laid foot upon the sand,_

_For to woo the fisher's daughter and to claim her marriage hand._

_I have come in from the ocean, I have come in from the sea,_

_And I'll not go to the waves love, lest you come along with me._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

Tauriel spun about, nearly capsizing the boat in her surprise. Behind her, waist deep in the water, was a pale-skinned man with long blond hair and ice- blue eyes. In one hand he held the knife her father had given her and the other steadied the boat so Tauriel would not go toppling over as well. “I am afraid the fish was well gone, my Lady,” he continued. “but I managed to save your knife.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Tauriel replied, taking the knife on autopilot. : _He must be one of the merfolk!:_ she realised. He opened his mouth to say something else and paused.

“My Lady, you are injured.” He pointed to the hand she had unwittingly sliced.

“My knife slipped,” Tauriel explained, tucking said knife away and pressing the bloodied handkerchief to her hand once again. “And I'm no lady, just Tauriel.”

“Then I am no Lord, but Thranduil,” the merman said. He held out his hand for her injured one. “May I?” With a shrug, Tauriel laid her fingers in his. This day was already surreal, she might as well just go along with it, and she trusted the merman even though she'd just met him, strange as that may seem. Thranduil turned her hand over so that her palm was facing upwards and then lowered it so her fingertips were touching the water, treating it like it was made of glass. A small wavelet covered her hand and gave Tauriel a strange jolt, rocking the boat as it did so. When the next wave washed away the blood Tauriel saw with surprise that it was completely healed. With a gasp, she pulled her hand from Thranduil's and looked at it, flexing her hand and twisting it. All that remained of what would normally be a serious injury was a thin silver line.

“My thanks Thranduil,” she said, looking down at the merman. “I had wondered how I was going to get back to shore.”

“You are leaving then?” Was it her imagination or did he sound disappointed?

“My mother worries if I stay out too long.”

“Oh.” This time he definitely sounded disappointed.

“I will probably be coming out again tomorrow though,” she said casually. “I have to empty the rest of those traps at some point.” His face noticeably brightened at that.

“Perhaps I'll see you then,” he replied, just as casually.

“Perhaps you might,” she agreed, reaching for her oars. “Goodbye Thranduil.”

“Goodbye Tauriel.”

Her mother was predictably distraught over her daughters hand and the blood stained handkerchief as they hadn't many cloths to spare. After reassuring her mother that the cut had been a minor one – and look, it's already healed! Tauriel headed upstairs to her room overlooking the sea. Her dreams that night were of a silver-tailed merman with blond hair and ice-blue eyes.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Lord, long have I loved you as a selkie on the foam._

_I would gladly go and wed thee, and be lady of your home._

_But I cannot go into the ocean, I cannot go into the sea._

_I would drown beneath the waves love if I went along with thee._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

The next day, Tauriel attacked her chores with a vengeance that surprised her mother and she finished doing the dishes from lunch in record timing. She flung down the cloth that she had used to dry the dishes and called over her shoulder to her mother that she would be back in time for dinner as she bolted out the door. Tauriel raced down to the beach and jumped into the boat with less than her usual grace, but no one was watching so it didn't matter. There was a favouring wind this time and Tauriel had reached the lobster pots and tied up at the buoy before half an hour had gone past.

There was no sign of Thranduil at first, and Tauriel felt with a sinking feeling that maybe he didn't want to meet her again, but she refused to be down-heartened and set about her work. She was distracted though, as every time she saw a glint of light on the water she thought it must be Thranduil coming, and she lost more than one slippery fish overboard. One in particular was a large, silver fish that would have fed Tauriel and her mother for a week if she had kept it. Tauriel was busy cursing this latest misfortune when she heard a voice behind her.

“How does a Lady like yourself learn such language?” It was Thranduil, and if Tauriel wasn't mistaken he was amused at her rather salty language. Tauriel spun around, more carefully this time and smiled when she saw him.

“My father and brothers are sailors and oft say such things,” she said by way of explanation, sitting herself more comfortably on the small boat. “Although my mother would wash their mouths out with soap if she knew they said such things around me.”

“Quite rightly too,” Thranduil agreed. “It is no language for a Lady.” He looked up at her, suddenly seeming very vulnerable and Tauriel noticed that he held something white in one of his hands. “I have something for you, Tauriel.” The girl's eyes widened and she smiled, holding out her hands. In a family like hers, that often struggled for money in the winter, gifts were few and far between, leading Tauriel and her brothers to cherish every one they got. Thranduil handed her what looked like a piece of cloth. It felt like silk against her skin, but it looked like starlight and sea foam. “It is what we use for cloth under the sea,” he explained, trailing a hand through the water. Tauriel unfolded it curiously, and saw that it was a large handkerchief, edged in blue thread with her name stitched in one corner in the same colour. “I thought you could do with a new handkerchief, since yours was ruined,” Thranduil said, desperate to fill up the silence. When she continued to just stare at the cloth, he asked rather anxiously, “Do you like it?” That jolted Tauriel out of her stupor.

“Like it? Thranduil, it's wonderful!” Impulsively, Tauriel threw herself forwards, catching him in a hug and incidentally sending the boat rocking wildly. Thranduil gingerly patted her on the back with one hand while the other grabbed the boat.

“Careful,” Thranduil gently disengaged her hands from round his neck and pushing her back into the boat. “You don't want to go overboard.”

“No, I might lose my new handkerchief,” Tauriel agreed, examining every inch of it. “Oh, it's so beautiful Thranduil, I don't know how I shall ever bring myself to use it.”

“It's only a handkerchief,” Thranduil said dismissively, but the shy smile that crossed his face spoke the lie to his words. “I am glad you like it.”

“I could hardly not like it, it's finer than anything I have ever seen,” Tauriel replied, carefully folding her new treasure and placing it in her pocket. “Thank you, it was very thoughtful of you Thranduil, to get me another one.” The merman actually blushed at that.

“It was nothing,” he said, modestly. “I must have a hundred like it back home.”

“A hundred handkerchiefs,” Tauriel said, a touch enviously. “I'm lucky if I have five.” She focused on Thranduil again. “It's not nothing to me.” She leant forwards, more carefully this time, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I'm glad you gave it to me.” Thranduil stared at her, wide-eyed and blushing. “I have to go now,” she said, looking back at the shore to hide a grin. “Will I see you again soon?”

“ … yes,” Thranduil agreed. His mind appeared to be on other things. This time, he stayed to watch the dwindling boat until Tauriel reached the shore, before diving beneath the surface.

It was not Tauriel's dreams that were haunted that night, but Thranduil's, and the red-headed subject of them was very familiar to him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Lady, long have I loved you, I would have you for my wife,_

_I will stay upon your shore land, though it robs me of my life._

_I will stay one night beside you, never go back to the sea,_

_I will stay and be thy husband, though it be the death of me._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

“I just don't see why you're so opposed to Killi,” Tauriel's mother said, several months later. “He's a lovely young man -”

“He's a pompous ass,” Tauriel replied, from where she was sat scrubbing at the pots. Lately her mother had taken to ambushing her about her 'marriage prospects' while she was doing her chores and it was incredibly irritating, especially as she hadn't told her mother about Thranduil yet. “I wouldn't be caught dead with him. He hasn't been here eighteen months and he's already offended half the village.” There was a brief pause, during which Tauriel dared to think her mother might have taken the hint and dropped the subject …

“What about Legolas then?” she asked, and Tauriel groaned, but her mother continued undaunted. “You were such friends as children.” Tauriel paused scrubbing long enough to stare at her mother incredulously. Did the woman not listen to town gossip? She certainly chatted enough.

“Mama, he's being courted by Gimli, they've been together for at least the last six months.”

“Really?” Her mother wasn't listening. “Well, I'm sure they make a lovely couple but …” Her brain caught up with her mouth and she turned to look at her daughter. “Gimli?”

“Yep.”

“As in, _Gloin's_ son?”

“Uh huh.”

“And _Legolas_?”

“Mm hmm.” Tauriel gave the pot another scrub, bending over her work to try and hide her grin at her mother's tone of voice.

“Well, you learn something new every day in this town,” her mother muttered, turning back to her shelves. Thankfully, that persuaded her mother to drop the subject, and Tauriel was allowed to finish her scrubbing in peace.

It was long since past noon when Tauriel finally finished the last pot, and she raced for the cove where she now met Thranduil. During the winter it hadn't been safe for Tauriel to go out on the boat every day to meet Thranduil, and he hadn't wanted to risk her safety, something that Tauriel thought was sweet, but completely unneeded. She was a fisherman's daughter, she knew better than to go out on the sea during bad weather, although, to be fair, she might have chanced it to meet Thranduil. The cove therefore had become their new meeting place, even though it was now near midsummer. It had a natural breakwater that Tauriel could climb to the end of, the water at the end was deep enough for Thranduil and her mother assumed she had some kind of clandestine meeting with one of the village boys, so there was something for everyone.

When Tauriel finally reached the end of the breakwater, having pelted headlong through the village to get here, Thranduil was nowhere to be seen. Tauriel scowled and kicked a pebble viciously (once she'd gotten her breath back). She'd promised to meet Thranduil just after noon, but her mother had made her late, piling dish after dirty dish into the washing water and now, if the village clock was to be believed, it was ten past two. With the way her luck was going today, he'd probably be back on the bottom of the ocean by now. Scowling, she kicked another pebble a little harder.

“Are you trying to brain me?” Thranduil spoke unexpectedly from beside her and Tauriel nearly jumped a foot in the air, turning to face him as she did so.

“Thranduil! There you are.” She sat down on the rock he was leaning against and looked at him in relief. He frowned up at her.

“You're quite late, Tauriel.” She winced and ran a hand through her hair.

“I know, I'm sorry. My mother ambushed me when I was doing my chores, she keeps badgering me about Legolas and Killi.” Over the past few months she had told him quite a lot about her troubles, for Thranduil was a sympathetic listener, and he had shared with her and asked her advice on some of his own problems.

“Your suitors?” he raised an elegant eyebrow.

“Don't call them that,” Tauriel scowled down at him. “Suitors are for ladies, I'm no lady.”

“Does your mother disapprove of them?” he asked, ignoring her remark about being a lady like he always did.

“No,” Tauriel replied with a sigh. “Rather she approves too much. It's about to get even worse as well, since Legolas is now dating Gimli, so she'll be going on about Killi. I can't stand him, but he's the only boy in the village who even looks twice at me, I'm no beauty.” Thranduil muttered something that sounded like 'agree to disagree' but Tauriel didn't hear him. She shook her head to get rid of such thoughts and turned to him. “But you didn't come here to hear me complain. How is life under the sea?” Thranduil obligingly launched into a tale about a sunken pirate ship, and several young merfolk who had almost gotten trapped in it, but he looked disappointed. It was almost as if he liked listening to her complain, as long as she was talking to him, but such things only existed in the tales of the bards, so Tauriel discarded them and let herself get drawn into the conversation.

Eventually, the talk somehow turned to mythology and Tauriel made Thranduil laugh with stories about what some of the common folk thought of mermaids. “Is it true that a kiss from one of the merfolk will enable you to breathe under water?” Tauriel asked, dangling her feet in the water and squinting into the sunset. She'd long since taken her boots and socks off and rolled up her trousers, for the cool water was blissful in the midsummer heat.

“Sadly not,” Thranduil replied from where he was leaning against her knee. “Why, were you thinking of trying it?” There was a glimmer of something entirely other than amusement in his eyes, but Tauriel hadn't yet noticed it. She grinned at his statement, reacting only to the amusement she could hear in his voice.

“It would be nice,” she mused. “I'd finally be able to see all those things you've been telling me about.”

“What, and the kiss would just be a way of getting that?” Thranduil had shifted to face her now, his expression inscrutable as always. Tauriel laughed, not hearing the undercurrents of the conversation.

“Don't get your tail in a knot,” she replied, still oblivious. “A kiss would be nice as well.” She smiled down at him and only had a second to realise that his face was now that much closer, and he had a strange expression on his face, before she felt his lips on hers. Tauriel sat for a second in absolute shock; unobservant as she was, it had been a complete surprise to her. She was still for long enough for Thranduil to realise she wasn't responding and pull away. Tauriel's brain was still malfunctioning, but something prompted her to act. She grabbed his shoulders to stay him and kissed him back.

It seemed like hours before Tauriel pulled away, and even then it was because it was break the kiss or die of asphyxiation. Thranduil had one hand on either side of her now, to support himself high enough that he was face to face with her. For a long moment, neither moved, their faces still close enough that their noses nearly touched and green eyes stared deeply into blue ones. Finally, Thranduil sighed and shifted his weight slightly, so he could reach up and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “You should go,” he said softly, unwilling to break the silence stretched between them. “It is late and your mother will worry about you.” Tauriel nodded, absently noting that it was dusk already. She scrambled to her feet, grabbing her shoes and socks as she did so. “Tauriel,” he said softly, and she turned back to see him still leaning on the rock, half out of the water.

“Yes?”

“Will I see you here again?” Thranduil asked, a trace of uncertainty in his voice and ice-blue eyes.

“Definitely,” Tauriel replied, bringing a hand up to touch her lips. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, relieved, and watched her walk away.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Lord I cannot go and wed ye, all to watch my lover die,_

_Since I'll not be made a widow, I have a plan for us to try._

_Let us speak with my grandmother, who's ever dwelt beside the sea,_

_She may know some trick or treasure that I might wed my fair selkie._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

Even a mother that was as unobservant as Tauriel's (such things tend to run in the family) could not fail to notice the gifts from Thranduil that she kept bringing home. Lover's tokens her mother called them, and in private Tauriel thought of them that way as well. There were also reports of Tauriel coming back from the cove singing strange songs and dancing her way along the street, but her mother discarded those, for they sounded nothing like her daughter. Every time Tauriel visited him now he had another gift for her, be it a beautiful sea shell, a piece of sea glass or one of those starlight and sea foam handkerchiefs. She had about eight of those handkerchiefs now, each edged in a different colour of thread, but she still treasured each and every one. Today, she had a conch shell that was about the size of her fist, the kind that you can hear the waves in if you put it to your ear. It was purple on the outside, a deep purple at the point, fading through violet to a light lilac at the edge with a pale pink interior. There had been no sign no Thranduil, but there had been a note with it. Tauriel hadn't read it yet, almost afraid of what it would say.

Tauriel slipped into the house quietly. It was the middle of the afternoon, her mother normally spent the day gossiping with her friends, so she shouldn't be home … “What's that you have there sweetheart?” Biting back a curse, Tauriel spun about to face her mother, hiding her shell behind her back.

“Nothing,” she replied, a bit too quickly.

“Ah, another one of your lovers tokens?” Tauriel's silence was answer enough, and her mother frowned slightly. “It's not that I mind you going out to meet him all the time Tauriel, but I wish you'd tell me who he is.”

“You'd never believe me if I did,” Tauriel replied mulishly. Her mother, with a stubbornness to equal her own, simply raised an eyebrow.

“Try me.”

“Fine.” Tauriel took a deep breath, suddenly irrationally angry with the whole situation. “Almost a year ago now, I was out in the boat when I sliced my hand and dropped my knife overboard. I met a merman who returned my knife, healed my hand and gave me that handkerchief you swooned over. A while ago he kissed me and started giving me these gifts and now he's left me this note asking me to meet him in the cove at dusk. And no, I don't know why he wants to meet me then or even how he got his hands on paper and ink. Happy now?” Without waiting for a reply, she stormed upstairs to her room.

Once she had calmed down somewhat, Tauriel read the note that Thranduil had left for her, slightly apprehensive. It was the first time he had ever missed one of their meetings.

 

_I am sorry I could not meet you, my Lady, but I am afraid it was unavoidable._

_If you could come to our cove at dusk, I promise I will meet you then._

_If not, could you please leave a not to that effect and I will meet_

_you at the normal time tomorrow._

  * _Thranduil._




 

Tauriel frowned at the letter and absent-mindedly fingered the parchment. It felt silky, almost like her handkerchiefs, but starchy in a way that they hadn't. The ink was some kind of blueish-purpleish colour, and Tauriel thought it might be squid or octopus ink, but she couldn't be sure. A thought niggled at the back of her mind, and Tauriel frowned, going back over her last few meetings with Thranduil in her mind. Ever since the kiss, he'd been giving her gifts … wait a minute. Was he trying to _court_ her? Tauriel raised an eyebrow. Well, he was certainly going about it in a better way than Killi or Legolas ever had, and she definitely wasn't adverse to the idea … It would never work though, he was a merman and she wasn't … but he'd been acting edgy lately, hadn't he? And he'd been turning up late to some of their meetings. It was almost like he was researching something. Had he found it?

Tauriel swallowed, hard, as that evening's meeting suddenly took on a wholly different view in her mind. This … this could mean something big.

 

That evening after dinner, Tauriel headed upstairs and slipped into her favourite outfit. It was a leaf green tunic over dark brown leggings and she pulled on a pair of comfortable boots to go with it. The knife her father had given her was tucked into her belt along with the first handkerchief that Thranduil had given her. She never had used it. Finally, Tauriel grabbed the conch shell, the one he'd left for her that morning and headed downstairs. If she was lucky, she could slip out the back door unnoticed.

“Tauriel? Where are you going at this time of night?” Sighing, Tauriel turned to face her mother, the conch shell clutched in her hands.

“I told you, remember?” Tauriel's mother blinked.

“I thought you were joking?” When Tauriel just shook her head mutely, her mother caught her up in a hug. “Oh, sweetheart …” Pulling back, she caught her daughter's gaze. “I'm proud of you, I hope you know that.” Tauriel nodded.

“I … I don't know how long I'll be.” It seemed that her mother knew something that Tauriel hadn't even guessed, for she nodded sagely and took Tauriel's cloak from it's peg, tucking it around her shoulders.

“There'll always be a home for you here Tauriel, whatever happens, please remember that. I'll tell everyone what happened.”

“I'm not leaving forever,” Tauriel objected, suddenly not so sure, but her mother simply smiled sadly and shook her head.

“I know that look, Tauriel. You love him, don't you?” Tauriel shrugged, frustrated.

“I don't know. I'm no good with words, Mum, but I look at him and … it's … it's like everything I've ever lost coming back to me all at once. I'm not sure what it is.”

“You love him child, even if you won't tell yourself that. If you do come back, you won't be the same.” She looked her daughter over briskly. “Well, you'll do. Off you go then, we wouldn't want you to be late now, would we?” Tauriel nodded and walked out of the door. She'd only taken three steps before she turned suddenly and flung herself into her mother's arms.

“I love you mum.”

“I love you too, Tauriel. Now, off you go, can't keep your young man waiting.” Tauriel grinned and ran off, hurdling the gate and pelting down the village road, looking back over her shoulder every few seconds to catch the sight of her mother standing at the door until she was out of sight.

Tauriel reached the cove just as the sun was going down, and she stared out over the shimmering water, searching for any sign of Thranduil. : _This would probably be much easier if the setting sun didn't turn the water gold,:_ She thought distractedly. After an anxious few seconds, Tauriel spotted him. He was much closer to shore than she'd expected and she almost called out, but the shout died hovering behind her lips as she watched him. His face was a mask of concentration and he was far too close to the shore, surely he'd do himself an injury? As Tauriel watched, he came closer and closer, until his chest and shoulders were out of the water. He was … wearing something? It looked like some kind of tunic, made of the same cloth as Tauriel's handkerchief, but it was dyed blue. As he came even closer, Tauriel felt her mouth hanging open. He was walking! How could he be walking? How could he even have legs? What … how … what? Eventually, he was standing in front of her, and Tauriel stared at him.

“How … you never told me you could do that.” Thranduil chuckled, and Tauriel vaguely noticed that he was quite a bit taller than her.

“I didn't know. One of the elders told me. He said that merfolk could take human form for a short while.” He frowned. “I must be back by midnight, I can't survive on land for any longer than that.” Tauriel nodded.

“Why?” she asked eventually.

“Why what?” Thranduil replied.

“Why … why me?” She gestured helplessly towards the sea. “There must be hundreds of lovely mermaids in the ocean, why did you choose me?”

“Thousands probably,” Thranduil agreed. “As to why … I don't know Tauriel.” He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “For so long now, I've been lost. After my father died I just kind of drifted, just going through the motions. And then I met you, and you were beautiful and kind and stubborn in a way that nobody else I've ever met is and … and I don't know what it is exactly, but I met you and, something changed. I was myself again, I was better than myself and I was terrified of losing you, because if I lose you, I'll go back to how I used to be and now I've known this I don't want to feel like that ever again. And, I can't explain it, but I look at you, and it's like I belong somewhere again. I look at you, and I'm home.” He ground to a halt, looking helplessly at Tauriel, who was pretty sure she was crying. He'd just bared his soul to her, and Tauriel wasn't sure if she had the words to respond. Instead, she pulled him into a tight hug, resting her head against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat.

“I … me too, Thranduil. I can't really put it into words, but ever since I've met you, it's like I was missing something all my life and never even realised it, and then suddenly you were there and you were everything I'd ever hoped for.” Sighing, she leant back so she could see his face. “I don't know how this is going to work though, Thranduil. You can only stay on land until midnight and I can't breathe underwater.” Thranduil pulled her back into his arms and rested his cheek on her head.

“I know,” he replied, his voice slightly muffled by her hair. “But I had to know, I had to try.”

“Yeah.” They were silent for a moment, before Tauriel stepped back and scowled out at the sea.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_So they go to her grandmother's little cottage by the sea,_

_To enquire how a maiden might be wed to her selkie._

_For the selkie's watery kingdom would surely rob her of her breath,_

_But to stay on land past midnight, it would surely be his death._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

“No. You don't get to do this; I'm not going to be one of those sappy maidens in a ballad and pine after my love for the rest of my life. They say my grandmother's some kind of witch, perhaps she'll know what we can do.” She began to walk across the sand, only pausing when she realised Thranduil wasn't with her. Turning, she found that he was still standing where she'd left him, looking at her with awe verging on worship, like she was a goddess come down to earth. “What?” Tauriel asked, shifting uncomfortably. The naked emotion in Thranduil's eyes was hard to look on for very long.

“You … you said … you love me?” Tauriel blinked and began to walk back towards him, slightly concerned with how he was acting.

“Well … yeah. I thought that's what the whole 'I can't live without you' bit was about?” By now she was standing where she had been a few minutes ago, and he was still staring at her like she was some kind of miracle.

“I … I wasn't sure.” Tauriel shook her head.

“Silly half-fish,” she said, teasing. “I'm not sure what I could have done to make it more obvious.” Silently, she decided not to tell him that she'd only come to terms with her own feelings about half an hour ago. It would ruin the very valid point she was trying to make, and they didn't have all that much time to find a solution. “Come on. My grandmother might be able to help us.”

 

Tauriel's grandmother, a rather elderly, although still beautiful, woman by the name of Galadriel, listened carefully to their story. Finally, she spoke.

“I am afraid I cannot aid you, my Lord. None of the merfolk can live on land for more than a short while, and if you walk on land for too many nights you will become sick and waste away.” Thranduil sighed, defeated.

“So this was all for nothing then?” He murmured, gesturing helplessly around.

“Don't give up so easily,” Tauriel chided. “You said you could do nothing to aid _him_ , Grandmother. What can you do to aid me?” Galadriel smiled.

“Clever girl.” She sat back and looked at them both with clear blue eyes. “It has often been said that our family is part mermaid Tauriel, and in truth this is only half jest. Many years ago, one of our line, Beren, fell in love with a mermaid, Lúthien.”

Silently, the two of them listened to the tale that was so like theirs, only opposite. When Galadriel spoke of Lúthien's despair when she realised that she could never be with the man she loved, Tauriel reached for Thranduil's hand and gripped it tight. “And so,” Galadriel said. “Legend says that Lúthien pleaded with the Valar for a way to be with Beren, and they granted her one. On Midsummer's Eve, she walked from the waters and her tail fell away from her as silver cloth. It is said that Beren took the cloth, as a reminder of how the Valar aided them. According to legend, it is buried beneath a tree, and anyone who wears it will become one of the merfolk.”

“This is all only legend,” Thranduil objected. “How do we know it is true?” Galadriel smiled.

“I know the cloth is there, for I have seen it myself, and I know that it is not of any human engineering. Will it turn you into a mermaid Tauriel?” She shrugged. “Of that I am not sure, but it is the best hope I can give you.” Tauriel nodded.

“Do you have a map?” she asked.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Lord I know not how to aid you, you may never live on shore,_

_For your kind to live 'till dawning, has ne'er been seen before,_

_But my mother had a seal coat that she buried 'neath the tree,_

_And she told me that it's wearer would become a fair selkie._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

As it turned out, Galadriel did indeed have a map and after borrowing her grandmother's shovel, Tauriel headed into the woods with Thranduil following her. It did not take long for her to notice that he was moving a lot slower than she was. “Are you all right?” Tauriel asked.

“I am unused to walking,” he admitted, placing a hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. “And I am not used to breathing air for so long.” Tauriel pulled his arm over her shoulder.

“We're almost there, come on.” They continued on like that, Tauriel helping him keep his balance and Thranduil leaning as much as he dared on her. He would've protested and carried the shovel at least, but he was having difficulty with the inherent differences between land and sea creatures. Namely walking and breathing.

By the time they reached the tree that the cloth was buried under, the full moon was just rising. Thranduil leant against a nearby tree and watched as Tauriel began to dig. Time passed and Thranduil, leaning back against the tree with his eyes closed, was beginning to think they would never find it, when there was a thud as Tauriel's shovel hit wood. His eyes snapped open and they stared at each other for a moment, before Tauriel threw the shovel away and reached into the hole for the chest. Thranduil lurched forwards and landed clumsily on his knees, reaching in to help her lift it. It wasn't very big, perhaps three feet square, if that, and they soon had it on the ground. There was an old rusty lock holding it shut, but Tauriel picked up the shovel again and hit the lock several times until it broke. Lifting the lid with trembling fingers, both of them gasped at the cloth. It was a silvery colour, made of the same material as Thranduil's clothes and light seemed to shine from every thread.

“We found it,” Tauriel whispered. She looked up, meeting Thranduil's blue eyes with tearful green ones. “This might actually work.”

“Only if we get back to the sea soon,” Thranduil replied. “It's got to be past midnight already.” Tauriel nodded and stood up, holding the cloth in one hand and helping Thranduil up with the other. They left the shovel and the chest where they were. It wasn't like an empty chest would do any harm, and they were on a time limit.

They reached the beach just before dawn, Thranduil staggering along, leaning more and more of his weight on Tauriel as every second passed. As soon as they reached the sea, Thranduil seemed to gain more strength and stood on his own. Tauriel wrapped the cloth around her shoulders and waited. It fell to her ankles and seemed to form a shimmering dress, the fabric shifting and changing effortlessly. Thranduil took her arm and they walked into the sea together, soon vanishing beneath the waves.

 

~ ~ ~

 

_So they've journeyed farther inland, though the seal lord's getting weak,_

_And she's shouldering the shovel, to unearth the thing they seek._

_At the rising of the full moon underneath the elven oak,_

_She's unearthed that very treasure of which her grandmother spoke._

 

_Just before the stroke of midnight, they have made it back to sea,_

_And she's donned the magic seal coat and become a maid selkie,_

_Now they've gone into the ocean, hand in hand into the sea._

_She has gone along, a fair seal bride to her selkie._

 

_~ ~ ~_

 

(The disappearance of that Tauriel girl was the talk of the town, especially as her mother didn't seem to notice. She could often be seen walking down to the cove where her daughter had spent so much time and concerned visitors said that she would often hum strange, otherworldly songs. It was the general opinion of the village that the woman had gone quite, quite mad. Particularly when she said her daughter was now a mermaid and married to their king.)

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Without the support people reading what I write I doubt I would have been able to continue this when I hit a snag about Christmas time. Thanks.


	13. Tauriel, Daughter of Mirkwood, Friend of Erebor and honorary member of the Fellowship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This chapter is another odd one that I had sitting around on my computer for ages before I finally decided to finish and post it. I'm not entirely happy with it, the beginning seems especially rushed to me, but I'm going to post it anyway. Hope you like it :)  
> By the way, this monster is eleven pages long, and should probably be made into a multi-chapter fic but I'm too lazy.

For many years now, the elves of Mirkwood had been aware that there was 'something' going on between the King and the Captain of the Guard. For the most part, they decided to let it be. After all, they were both adults and he was the King. With her around, he seemed more lenient, more prone to forgiveness and less distant. Who knows what would have happened if the Dwarves hadn't tried to reclaim Erebor.

Tauriel had been one of the guards that brought them in and she disagreed with the King's decision to throw them into the dungeons.

“They are children Thranduil,” she argued once the dwarves had been taken away. “The youngest of them were not even born when the dragon came and their leader was barely a child himself when that happened.”

“Their leader is Thorin Oakenshield,” Thranduil hissed. “Son of Thrain, son of Thror.” That was said with a mocking, derisive tone. “He is just the same as them.”

“Have you given him a chance? He has been taught to hate elves ever since he could speak and you're giving him no reason to change his attitude.”

“You think we should help him? Encourage him to let that dragon lose on the world?”

“It is his home Thranduil! Would you not do the same if the dragon resided in Mirkwood?”

“Enough!” Thranduil spun to face her, blue eyes burning. “I will not risk my people against a dragon, not again.”

“What, like you won't risk them against the spiders, or the orcs? I hate to break it to you, your Majesty, but if we don't help others when they need it then none will come to our aid when Mirkwood is besieged.”

“You are talking nonsense! Why would Mirkwood be besieged? Here in these walls, we will endure.”

“We will be attacked because the shadow is returning and you are too blind to see it! There are orcs roaming as far as Rivendell, a darkness sits in the abandoned fortress and Ungoliants attack us daily. The last patrol found a nest not three leagues from here! We are already besieged and you are renouncing our allies one by one.” Tauriel trailed off. There was a cold look on Thranduil's face that she had never seen directed at her before.

“If you no longer feel safe under my roof, Captain, I can find work for you in Rivendell or Lothlórien.”

“Don't bestir yourself on my account, _Majesty._ ” Tauriel's eyes were hard and her voice mocking. “I can find work myself. As far from Mirkwood and it's heartless King as I can get!” She left without looking back and therefore missed the stricken look on Thranduil's face as he watched her leave. He had not truly meant to drive her away.

Tauriel headed down to the dungeons to cool her temper and reassure herself that the dwarves were being treated properly. They had only glowers for her as she walked past their cells, but at least they were being fed. She paused at the cell that housed the young dark-haired one. He had something in his hand that he was tossing up and catching again idly. Tauriel drew closer despite herself. “What is that?” he looked up, surprised, and then smiled.

“A runestone. My mother gave it to me as a reminder of my promise.”

“Your promise?”

“That I would come back to her.” Thranduil had said they would stay in there forever. He flashed her a quick grin. “She thinks I'm reckless.”

“And are you?” Tauriel asked with a small smile.

“Nah.” Her smile grew.

“Says the dwarf in an elf's dungeon.” He laughed, quick and bright and hopeful.

“I hadn't thought of it like that,” he admitted. “I'm Killi by the way, Killi son of Dis.”

“Tauriel,” she replied. “Captain of the guard.” She began to walk away.

“Wait!” she turned. The elder, blond haired dwarf was standing, clutching at the bars. “Our uncle. Is he – is he safe? B – They said they were starving him.” Tauriel wondered who this 'B' person was, but she nodded.

“I will have a look,” she promised.

The cook was busy with food for a feast, so Tauriel managed to slip into and out of the pantry without being seen. She'd managed to grab some bread and cheese and a small pitcher of milk. The dwarf would probably prefer some ale, but they didn't have any. As Tauriel was Captain of the guard, she knew where all of the cells were, and she only had to search three places before she found the surly, grumpy dwarf King. Who was apparently talking to mid air, something that Tauriel very carefully didn't notice. From the young dwarf's slip, she'd gotten the idea that one of their company wasn't imprisoned, but as she had basically just resigned from her job it was no longer her problem.

“What do you want?” the king demanded.

“I brought you food and drink,” she said, handing them to him. “Your nephews said they were starving you.” The dwarf gave her a deeply suspicious look, but he took the food.

“Your King said I was to be given nothing.”

“My King has a temper and a long memory for grudges,” Tauriel replied. “He sees you as nothing more than your father and grandfather born again. In a century or so he will have calmed down enough to see sense, but by that time you will be long since dead.” The dwarf began to reply, but was cut off by running footsteps.

“Tauriel! Tauriel!” Legolas rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. “They say you're leaving,” he said, blue eyes wide. Tauriel sighed and looked away, aware that the dwarf king was listening intently.

“I had a disagreement with your father and decided to seek employment elsewhere.”

“It was about the dwarves, wasn't it? You think he's wrong.”

“Yes.” Legolas nodded.

“I thought so. That's why I brought you the keys to their cells.” Tauriel turned to stare at him.

“ _Legolas!_ How would we even get them out of the palace?” He shrugged, apparently unconcerned that there was not one single act that could have broken more of his father's laws.

“There's plenty of secret passages if you know where to look. There's one not far from here. We could take them to Lake Town. They'd be able to manage on their own from there.”

It was the work of a moment to unlock the cells and return their weapons to the dwarves. They went quickly and quietly through the forest, running the Dwarves ragged for Tauriel feared Thranduil's reaction. Not for herself – for although it pained her she never again planned to set foot inside Mirkwood – but for Legolas. Yes, he was the King's son, but he had helped some of Thranduil's most hated enemies escape their dungeons, and she didn't think the King would forgive that as easily as he had their childhood mishaps.

 

The dwarves gave Tauriel shelter in their mountain while Legolas went back to face his father. In the end, Tauriel had persuaded him to say that she had helped the dwarves escape and he had chased after them, trying to persuade Tauriel to change her mind. For three days they searched the mountain, but found no sign of the Dragon. On the fourth, the hobbit Bilbo (the mysterious person whose name began with a B and who could disappear) found Smaug's carcass, lying in one of the smaller halls. Before him lay the Arkenstone. Thorin, his eyes filled with madness, reached for the stone, but Tauriel grabbed his arm. “Do not! That thing is filled with darkness and evil. Do not touch it!” The dwarves ignored her and Bilbo only gave her a helpless look. With nothing else she could think of that would work, Tauriel darted forwards and smashed the hilt of her dagger into the Arkenstone with all her strength. It shattered into a thousand pieces and a strong force was released, flinging them all back and stunning them momentarily. Tauriel lay there dazed, unable to react as the dwarves started towards her, murder in their eyes. To her everlasting surprise, it was Thorin who staggered in front of her.

“Stop!” he cried. The dwarves halted. They may have been angry, but they weren't about to fight their King to get at her. Thorin turned to her with wonder in his eyes. “I felt it,” he said. “When you destroyed that cursed jewel I felt the gold madness flee. Never again shall the dwarves of my line be dogged by madness. Truly you have saved us all.”

They named her dwarf friend, under the protection of the King Under the Mountain and Ori, who had found it in some ancient scrolls, showed her how to weave the braids and beads – one for each of them – into her hair. It was not long after this that a message came from Legolas. In it he said that his father had believed him and was gathering an army to march on the mountain and reclaim his jewels. He also said that Tauriel had been banished from Mirkwood for her part in helping the dwarves to escape. It was for this reason that Thorin turned Thranduil from his gates with nothing but insults, even as Tauriel begged him not to. Thorin may have hated elves, but this one had risked everything for him and his nephews and saved his life at least twice. Besides, no one under  _his_ protection would be bad mouthed by that arrogant woodland sprite – it was the principle of the thing.

Tauriel was still reasoning with him – out of sight of the gates because Thranduil was very angry and she wasn't suicidal – when the army from the Iron Hills showed up, shortly followed by legions of orcs.

The battle was long and arduous and they were badly outnumbered, even after Legolas convinced his father to fight. By the time the Eagles came, Thorin and Filli and Killi had all been badly injured, and the rest of the Company wasn't much better off. Legolas came to find her after the battle, his face desolate.

“My father refuses to life the banishment,” he told her.

“I had expected as much,” Tauriel replied, even as her heart sank. “I shall head to Lothlórien and after that … well, I am not sure.”

“I also plan to take my leave of Mirkwood,” Legolas said softly. “I am restless here and I wish to see new things. Travel with me?”

“Of course,” Tauriel said. “But first I must say goodbye to my friends and you to your father.”

 

* * *

 

When the Fellowship, weary and heart sore, walked into Lothlórien, it had been many long years since Legolas had last seen Tauriel. He knew some of what she had done in the intervening decades, although the growing friendship between the elves and the dwarves remained her greatest achievement, but he had not expected to see her in the golden wood.

“Tauriel!” he cried, startling his friends old and new. “I didn't expect to find you here.”

“Legolas,” she smiled back at him. “I heard from Lord Elrond that you were headed this way, so I thought I'd surprise you.” He happily introduced her to all his friends, although she already knew Aragorn from Rivendell, but when he came to Gimli the dwarf surprised both of them by bowing low and calling her by name.

“Lady Tauriel,” he said. “It is an honour to meet you at last. I am Gimli, son of Glóin, cousin to Filli and Killi. I have often been told of your bravery in rescuing the company.” Tauriel laughed.

“It was hardly brave,” she said. “More foolhardy. Come, you must tell me how your relatives are faring. It has been a long time since I saw them last.”

The Company stayed in Lothlórien for almost two weeks, but Tauriel left after only a few days. “I have orcs to kill,” said she, a fey look in her eyes. “The Misty Mountains are becoming distressingly populated.” She turned to Legolas. “If you ever need aid, ille boriin, you know how to call me.” ( _little brother.)_ He nodded.

“Wind to thy wings, sister.” He stood with Gimli, watching her fade into the trees.

 

The next time she met them, the Fellowship had been whittled to three, although they had gained Gandalf back, and they moved at the head of an army. It was only a passing visit, she hailed them from a distance, surprising everyone except Legolas and frightening the soldiers with her piercing whistle. “Legolas!” she called as soon as she was within hearing distance of them. “I did not expect to see you here.” Her face fell when she came closer. “But where are Boromir and the illen lan?” ( _little ones)_

“Boromir has passed on to halls of his forebears,” Legolas said.

“The hobbits are quite safe,” Gimli hastened to reassure her, leaning around Legolas to see her properly. “Pippin is with Gandalf,” he waved his hand at the white horse further down the army, “and Merry is in the Houses of Healing in Gondor.”

“What about Frodo and Sam?”

“Frodo is headed to Mordor with -” Gimli began, but was cut off.

“Mordor!” Tauriel cried. “I would hardly call that safe!” she turned to Legolas. “How could you let him go alone?”

“He is not alone,” Legolas replied, stung. “Sam is with him.”

“That is good,” Tauriel said, relaxing slightly. “Hobbits are brave creatures, but they need someone to protect.” She looked at the three of them. “But where do you go now?”

“We are headed to Mordor, to distract the Eye,” Aragorn replied. “We seek aid in defeating _him._ ”

“Then it is good fortune indeed that I have found you,” Tauriel said, her face troubled. “For I fear you will find scant aid wherever you look. Dale and Erebor are besieged and Mirkwood is under attack by forces from Dol Guldor. Lothlórien cannot come to your aid again, they are stretched too thin and Rivendell and the Grey Havens are almost deserted, most of our kin have sailed.” She shook her head. “Truly the age of the Eldar is coming to an end.”

“It is no more than we expected,” Aragorn said heavily. “We have no other choice but to march on the Black Gates as we are.”

“Tauriel,” Legolas said. “Please, speak with my father. For Frodo and Sam to succeed, the Enemy's Eye _must_ be fixed on us, but at the moment we will be slaughtered in minutes.” Tauriel sighed.

“You know he will not fight, Legolas. He will not risk his people in such a battle.”

“ _He will if you ask him Tauriel.”_ Legolas said in elvish. “ _You know that.”_

“ _And_ you _know that I am banished from Mirkwood.”_ Tauriel replied. “ _It would be a death sentence for me to go back.”_

“ _You and I both know he could never carry that out.”_ Tauriel sighed, aware that Aragorn, who spoke Elvish, was looking at them with increasing confusion.

“I will see what I can do,” she promised.

“Wind to thy wings, sister.”

“Strength to thy sword, brother.”

 

* * *

 

For an elf on foot it took Tauriel a surprisingly short amount of time before she reached the edge of Mirkwood, but she knew it would take another day of travelling before she reached the palace. And then Valar only knows how long to convince Thranduil to send aid to his son. Travelling through the forest was surprisingly easy as Tauriel encountered neither enemies nor patrols of Mirkwood elves. It was both encouraging and worrying for although it made her journey easier, how many enemies had snuck through the patrols as she had?

As Legolas had mentioned all those years ago, there were many secret passages into and out of the palace if one only knew where to look. In the end, Tauriel didn't need any of them, but simply scaled the wall into one of the rose gardens. She frowned at the lax security, for she had seen no watchers or guards at all. Walking through the halls, she found them also deserted and her anxiety grew. Had the Mirkwood elves already been wiped out by the forces in Dol Guldor, or had they simply decided to sail and leave this land to it's fate?

Thankfully, the royal chambers were guarded and Tauriel nearly gave herself away with a sigh of relief. (Finally! Some people.) It did not bother her too much however, for she simply backtracked to the nearest window and climbed out. From there it was the work of a moment to climb up to Thranduil's balcony and slip inside his rooms (and she was going to have a serious discussion with the King about security when she had the chance).

The King was helping himself to some wine when Tauriel slipped inside and hid herself in the shadows. The bottle clinked against the glass.

“I know you are there,” he said, startling her. “Why do you linger in the shadows?”

“My Lord,” Tauriel began. He whirled around, his eyes wide and the wine sloshing in his grasp.

“Tauriel?” He was visibly startled for a moment, and then recovered his composure. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a message from your son,” she replied. “He plans to aid Isildur's heir in -” he interrupted her again.

“Isildur's heir has been found?”

“Yes, along with Isildur's Bane.” He spun to face her again, his face pale.

“Say that again.”

“Isildur's Bane has been found again. At the moment two young hobbits carry it to Mount Doom.” He stared at her for a moment longer and then downed his glass in one.

“Explain.”

It did not take long for Tauriel to tell the whole story and Thranduil crossed to the balcony to gaze up at the stars. “This is madness,” he said finally. “With so few men this King of Gondor cannot hope to win.” He shook his head. “Convey my regrets to my son, but I will not help him in this. Even with my help they could not hope to succeed.”

“But -”

“I will not risk my people in such a foolish endeavour. Gondor is a kingdom of Men, let the Men fight for it's freedom. It is not our fight.”

“Are we not part of this world?”

“No. The time of the Eldar is over. Middle Earth is no longer our concern.”

“It will be when all of Arda is overrun and Sauron walks these lands again!”

“That is likely to happen anyway. Even with an army of the likes that took him down before, they could not hope to win.”

“It's not about winning!” Tauriel cried, finally catching his attention. “They know it's a fool's hope, but to defeat Sauron, the ring _must_ be destroyed. At this very moment two little hobbits are trying to sneak into Mordor, and when they do, his Eye must be fixed on us, or they will fail. It was never about winning or losing, we just need to buy Frodo some time.”

“Frodo?” Thranduil queried.

“Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee,” Tauriel replied. “They are two of the hobbits that went with the Fellowship.”

“Baggins,” Thranduil said, rolling the word around on his tongue. “I have often considered myself privileged to have met Bilbo Baggins of Erebor. He can somehow manage to do the impossible and keep a handle on the dwarves.” He turned back to look out at the stars. “If young Frodo has half the strength of will that his relative has then it is not nearly so hopeless as I believed.” He sighed and turned back to Tauriel. “Very well, in the morning I shall gather my army.”

“If you lend me a horse I can take the news back to Legolas,” Tauriel said.

“Of course.”

 

“Remind this King that Elves move faster than Men,” Thranduil said as Tauriel saddled her horse, as the ostlers had been moved to a more secure fortress further inside Mirkwood with the rest of the citizens. “We should be no more than two or three days behind you.”

“Try not to take too much longer,” Tauriel said, leading the horse out of the stables. “The idea is to have one big army, not several small ones.” Tauriel gazed up at the horse in trepidation. He was about twelve hands high and she wasn't sure she had the strength to mount him and not fall in an embarrassing heap on the floor. Elvish though she was the last few days had been tiring. The only warning she had was the King's hands landing on her waist and then he lifted her up and onto the horse like she weighed no more than a child.

“Wind to thy wings and luck to thy feet, meleth-nin,” ( _my love)_ he said softly, his hands lingering on her waist and his heart in his eyes. Tauriel gazed down at him, shocked, and made a split second decision. They may not have that much longer to live, after all, and the rift between her and the King was one she had always regretted. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his lips, grabbing a fistful of his robes to bring him closer. He made a surprised noise, but then his hands tightened on her waist and he kissed her back.

Eventually, Tauriel pulled away and regretfully sat up again. Thranduil stared up at her, his pupils blown wide and his breaths coming fast. After a moment, he came back to himself and stepped away, his hands falling from her waist as his mask came back into place.

“Strength to thy sword and hope to thy heart, dua,” ( _love)_ she said as softly as he had. Tauriel kicked the horse lightly and galloped away before he could reply.

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Legolas' friend Tauriel turned up, saying his father and the elvish army were only a few days behind her, Aragorn watched the byplay between the two friends with amusement. Upon seeing the horse she was riding, Legolas looked surprised and raised an eyebrow at her. In return, she pointedly looked between him and Gimli, making his ears turn red. Aragorn sighed and urged his horse forwards. Sometimes it was better to just not know.

That evening, when they stopped marching for the day, Tauriel managed to corner Legolas to talk with him. “What's going on between you and Gimli?” she asked softly.

“What's going on between you and my father?” he returned, equally as softly. She looked away from him, her cheeks pink.

“Nothing! Well, nothing much yet.”

“The same,” he replied softly. They stood for a moment in silence, reaffirming their friendship, before they were called away to do other things.

The army continued to crawl towards Mordor and the scouts began to come back reporting signs of orcs in the area. Aragorn gave the order for the fires to be built higher at night and for sleep to be taken in shifts. They could not risk being ambushed by orcs now, they had to get to Mordor.

 

True to Thranduil's word, it was only two days after Tauriel had rejoined them before a scout came running up to where the remains of the Fellowship were riding with Aragorn at the front of the army.

“Sire!” he cried. “There is an army of elves approaching from behind!” Aragorn called a halt and they waited for the elves to catch them up.

Thranduil rode at the head of the army on his great elk, like he always did and his gaze scanned the army until it landed on Tauriel and Legolas, standing together some way behind the King. When it did he seemed to relax a tiny amount.

“Who's that?” Pippin asked in a loud whisper.

“Hush Master Peregrin,” Tauriel said, far more softly. “That is my King, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, but he does not forgive as easily as Master Elrond.” Pippin gulped and fell silent.

Aragorn rode forwards to speak with Thranduil and both Tauriel and Legolas breathed a silent sigh of relief when a look of grudging respect entered his eyes. They could not have Thranduil dismiss another King as unimportant, the last time that had happened they called it's outcome 'The Battle of Five Armies'.

The elvish army split in two to flank the human army on either side and several of the scouts split off to keep an eye on their surroundings. Thranduil rode at the head of the two armies with Aragorn as they began to move again, discussing tactics. By common consent both Tauriel and Legolas dropped back so they were no longer within easy speaking distance. They both had a difficult conversation with Thranduil coming up and neither of them wanted to have it where anyone else could hear. it. Pippin and Gimli, who were sat on the back of Tauriel and Legolas' horses respectively, exchanged confused glances, but luckily they didn't push it.

 

When they stopped for the evening, Legolas and Gimli once again set about trying to teach Pippin how to use a sword properly. You can't really cram decades worth of training into a couple of weeks, but hobbits learnt fast and he was enthusiastic. Tauriel was so busy watching what they were doing that she didn't notice someone coming up behind her.

“ _These humans let children fight?”_ Thranduil asked, speaking elvish so that the men around them couldn't understand.

“ _Oh! You startled me, my Lord,”_ Tauriel said, turning to face him. “ _And no, that is not a child, but a hobbit. Master Peregrin Took, one of the Fellowship. He is full grown, I believe,”_ she added, for she didn't know Pippin's exact age, or when hobbits were considered adults.

“ _ My apologies,” _ Thranduil said. He studied Pippin a little closer before nodding. “ _ Now that I look at him I can see that. He is related to Bilbo Baggins of Erebor, is he not?” _

“ _ Er. I think so …”  _ Tauriel agreed, trying to remember what Pippin had told her. “ _ He is a second cousin on his mother's side?” _ She hazarded. Thranduil shot her an amused look.

“ _ I would not bother. The genealogy of hobbits is impenetrable by any who are not hobbits themselves. Even our long lives are not long enough to understand it.”  _ He began to walk away. “ _ Come, I wish to speak with you,”  _ he said, over his shoulder. Legolas shot her a sympathetic look and Tauriel sighed and followed her King.

 

Thranduil led her to the tent that had been set up for him, dismissing the door guards and his butler Galion as he entered. Tauriel followed him, trepidation building inside her with every step she took. It was much smaller than Thranduil's tents usually were, but there were still two sections within, one of which she presumed held his bed and the other, which they entered.

He waved her into one of the chairs and headed for a small cupboard. Tauriel looked around, marvelling once again that all this furniture had managed to be brought along with them. “Wine?” he asked.

“No thank you, my Lord,” Tauriel replied quietly. “It goes to my head far too fast and I need to be able to ride a horse in the morning.” Thranduil smiled at that – not that Tauriel noticed – and returned with only one glass of wine for himself. He sat down in another chair and took a sip of his wine. Tauriel resisted the urge to fidget, knowing that he was wondering where to begin. When he did, it wasn't what she thought he'd say.

“You came to ask for my help,” he said finally. “Why?”

“We needed a larger army -” Tauriel began.

“No.” Thranduil took another sip from his wine glass, avoiding Tauriel's eyes. “Why  _ you?” _ Tauriel swallowed.

“Legolas said he thought I had the best chance of convincing you,” she said softly.

“You broke your banishment,” he said, staring at the opposite wall. “The punishment for that is death, as you well know.”

“You would never carry it out,” Tauriel replied, with slightly more confidence than she felt.

“Oh?” Thranduil caught her eyes for the first time in the conversation, an eyebrow raised. Tauriel met his gaze evenly.

“I still have my head, do I not?” A smile quirked the corners of his lips before he took another sip of his wine and looked away again.

“When you left,” he began, tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair. “You kissed me. Why?”

Tauriel stared at him and was overwhelmed by a rush of feelings for this beautiful, wonderful elf that she had fallen in love with so many years ago. Did he truly not know?

“You called me meleth-nin,” she countered. “Why?”

He didn't answer.

“If you can still love me,” she said, ever so softly, “after everything we've done and all this time, why should I not?” and then, so softly she could barely hear her own voice. “Meleth.” Thranduil's head whipped round and he stared at her with a look in his eyes that Tauriel was completely unable to describe. It was hope and love and loss and … She simply had to kiss him.

She ended up in Thranduil's lap, sat sideways with his arms around her and the wineglass abandoned on the floor. “I had thought,” he began. “By now, you would've …”

“What, changed my mind?” Tauriel asked. “Met somebody else?” To her surprise, he nodded.

“I know you spent much time in Lothlórien and Rivendell. There are many other elves there you could have chosen, meleth-nin,” he said, running a hand through her hair. “They are younger, better, more deserving of you.”

“But they're not you,” Tauriel protested.

“I thought … Legolas …”

“Legolas?” Tauriel considered that for a moment and then smiled up at him. “Perhaps, had I met him first.” He winced.

“I fear I made a very bad first impression.” She laughed.

“Not as bad as mine.” A memory flashed before her eyes of her teenaged self being dragged before the King for causing an 'altercation' in the corridor. The King had been hungover and cross and had assigned her to run errands for the city guards for two weeks to teach her to behave better. It had backfired in that Tauriel had enjoyed it so much that as soon as it was over she had applied to become a trainee.

“Speaking of Legolas,” Thranduil said. “What is my son doing with that red-headed dwarf?”

“I don't know,” Tauriel replied, shrugging. “When I met them in Lothlórien they were civil to each other, as you would expect comrades to be, but when I met them again before I returned to Mirkwood they were as brothers. The dwarf is Gimli, son of Gloin,” she added. Thranduil sighed.

“And here I thought I was almost rid of the line of Durin.”

Someone knocked on the wooden post outside the tent put there for exactly that purpose. “My Lord?” Galion called. Tauriel tried to get up, but Thranduil tightened his grip.

“Come in,” he said. Galion's eyes widened at the sight of Tauriel sat on the King's lap, but apart from that he ignored her.

“My Lord, Mithrandir and the King Elessar wish to speak with you,” he said. Thranduil nodded.

“Call them in.”

“Let go of me,” Tauriel hissed as soon as Galion left. Thranduil smirked when he saw that Tauriel's face was as red as her hair.

“No.” She pinched his arm hard, making him give a very undignified yelp and he loosened his grip enough for her to stand up.

“I will tell your son you wish to speak to him, my Lord,” Tauriel said over her shoulder as she left the tent.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Two days later, they were within sight of Mordor. The camp that night was a sombre affair; everyone was aware that they would be fighting at the Black Gate on the morrow. As soon as they had pitched camp, Tauriel and Legolas had split ways, Tauriel to the King and Legolas to Gimli. Both of them needed comfort and courage for what was to come on the morrow. Thranduil said nothing at first, only handed her a glass of wine.

“Are you alright?” Thranduil asked, his arm sneaking round Tauriel's waist to pull her close to him. Tauriel jumped and realised she'd been standing there staring into space for the past five minutes.

“I … We might die tomorrow,” she said finally. “It's strange, I never really thought about it before.”

“You've been in battle before,” Thranduil said.

“Yes,” Tauriel agreed. “but that doesn't make it any less strange this time around.” She didn't say that it was more likely this time than it had ever been before, because they both already knew that. Not many people could face the Dark Lord of all and live to tell the tale and with an army this small? Their chances were so small it was laughable. Tauriel closed her eyes and sighed, leaning into Thranduil's side. There was so much she was wanted to so, so much more she had wanted to see. Tauriel sighed again. : _Damn it all to hell.:_ She thought and opened her eyes, turning to face Thranduil. He opened his mouth to ask her something, but she didn't give him a chance to speak. Grabbing two fistfuls of his robe, she pulled him towards her and kissed him. He made a surprised noise and kissed her back.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Legolas stared blindly into the sunset. “You alright, laddie?” Gimli asked, coming up to stand behind him.

“I fear what may come tomorrow,” Legolas replied.

“Aye,” Gimli huffed. “I know the feeling.” Legolas turned incredulous eyes on him.

“You fear death? But you are mortal?”

“Aye, an' what's that got to do with it?”

“All mortals die eventually, I didn't think you feared it as the Eldar do.”

“Well, there's things I was going to do,” Gimli said. “Places I wanted to see,” he added. Legolas laughed.

“You refer to our promise to go to Fangorn and the Glittering Caves together?” he asked. At Gimli's nod he continued. “I must admit that I was also looking forward to it,” he admitted. “To walk through such forests and teach their beauty to a dwarf of all creatures.” Gimli grinned, too smart now to take that as the insult it was disguised as.

“To walk the Glittering Caves and teach their beauty to an elf,” he countered. He gave his friend a speculative look. “What did your father want to speak with you about before?” Legolas shrugged, the tips of his ears a suspicious pink. He looked down at the dwarf, Tauriel's advice echoing in his ears. “ _We might die tomorrow, ille borrin.” (little brother.) “Tell him.”_ “Come,” he said to Gimli. “I wish to speak with you.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Tauriel pulled away and looked up at him. His blue eyes were shining so very brightly and he cradled her head between his hands like he was holding something precious. She blinked at him, and noticed the slight shimmer infront of his face for the first time.

“Thranduil?” She asked.

“Mmm?”

“Are you wearing a glamour?” He froze.

“Yes,” he said eventually. His hands slipped away from her face and Tauriel opened her mouth to say something else, bereft, but he placed a finger on her lips and silenced her. He closed his eyes and focussed and, slowly, his scar became visible. He heard her gasp and then her fingers gently grazed his cheek. He opened his eyes.

“How …?” She gazed up at him, looking into his working eye and asked a different question. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said softly. “Not anymore.” Tauriel stretched up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his scarred cheeks.

“It is from one of the firedrakes of the North,” he began. Tauriel took his cold hands in her warm ones, trying to encourage him. “My father perished in the fire, as did my first wife and I was left with these scars.” He paused and took a deep breath. “It is one of the reasons why I didn't aid the dwarves when Smaug first came. I had seen the wrath and ruin of a dragon's fire and I had no desire to subject my people to it.” Tauriel nodded, and then paused.

: _Wait a minute,:_ she thought. _:_ First _wife?”_

“ _First_ wife?” she repeated out loud. Thranduil stared at her and sighed. Leaning forwards, he pressed his forehead against hers.

“I was going to do this properly,” he muttered. “I was going to court you and ask for your hand after I had beaten the council into submission.” He sighed again and his breath fanned out against her face. “But we have days, if not hours, left to live.” Tauriel pulled away from him, shocked.

“ _Me?”_ she asked, wrapping her arms about herself. “You would _marry me?”_ Thranduil followed her, drawing her into his arms again.

“Who else?” he asked, tucking her head under his chin. “Or did you not believe me when I said I loved you?” She was silent and Thranduil cursed his previously unfeeling behaviour. “I am not the same man I was, meleth. I have changed, for the better I believe.” When she still didn't answer, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He grasped her chin in his hand, lifting her head so he could meet her eyes. “You must have known? Please meleth, tell me that I was not so cold that you didn't know?” Tauriel sighed and took his hand in hers, pulling it away from her chin.

“I knew,” she said softly. “Of course I knew, but I did not suspect …” she trailed off. “You are a King and I am just …”

“You are you,” Thranduil said. “Ever since I have met you I have never looked to another.”

“The council -” Tauriel began, but Thranduil laughed.

“If we are to die tomorrow we need not fear the councils reaction, meleth-nin.” He pulled her close again, cradling her head with one hand, his other round her waist and he pressed his forehead against hers. “ _You are mine and I am yours,”_ he murmured. “ _From now until the breaking of the world.”_

“ _You are mine and I am yours,”_ Tauriel repeated, her lips almost brushing his as she spoke. “ _Until all the stars burn out.”_ He kissed her.

 

The next morning, Tauriel left Thranduil's tent just as Legolas left Gimli's, but they had no time to do more than share an embarrassed smile before the army got ready to march on the Black Gate. The council would have a fit when they all returned. If they all returned.

 

Tauriel stood on Thranduil's left as they stood before the Black Gate. Aragorn had just issued his second challenge and the Black Numenorean was coming forward. Thranduil stiffened, but he did not pay any attention to the elves, preferring instead to taunt Aragorn. When he held up the mithril shirt and glass phial, Pippin could not stop his indrawn breath, and the Black Numenorean gloated. Beside Tauriel, Pippin sobbed into his hand.

“It is scant comfort I know,” Thranduil said quietly, surprising Tauriel, “but had your friends truly been dead he would have no compunction in showing us their bodies. Take heart Master Hobbit, your friends may yet have escaped.” Pippin sniffed, but his face brightened.

“If anyone could escape it would be Frodo and Sam,” he said confidently. “Thank you, your Majesty, I hadn't thought of it like that.”

The elves were too far away for even their sharp ears to catch what the outcome of the meeting was, but Gandalf snatched the articles from the Black Numenorean's hands and the party returned to the army. Aragorn began to speak, but Tauriel lost interest as Thranduil stiffened next to her.

“His eye is almost upon us,” he said.

“Good,” she replied. “Frodo and Sam have a fighting chance.”

The battle was long and arduous and Tauriel kept close to Thranduil, foregoing her bow to stay by his side. She had no idea how he fought as well as he did with only one eye, but she was determined that nothing would get past her. Despite her best efforts, Tauriel was separated from Thranduil and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't find the elven King. She soon found herself fighting back to back with Gimli. “Have you seen Legolas?” he yelled.

“Not since the beginning,” she yelled back, fending off an orc. “Have you seen Thranduil?”

“Nay,” he replied. “I haven't seen any of your kin.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

The very ground beneath their feet shook and Tauriel grabbed at Gimli's shoulder for support. “What's happening?” he demanded.

“The Eagles,” a faint voice cried. “The Eagles are coming!” The army they were facing fell as if from a blow and Tauriel turned to face Mordor.

“The tower,” she cried. “Look at the tower!” It was falling, cracking, breaking at the very foundations.

“They did it!” Gimli breathed, astounded. “Those wee little hobbits, they actually did it!”

By common, although unspoken, consent, Tauriel and Gimli stuck together as they scoured the battle field for their lose loves. As they rounded the carcass of a dead cave troll Tauriel spotted Thranduil talking to a very distraught Legolas. They were really quite close actually, only a couple of meters away. Tauriel paused for a moment, just to drink in the sight of Thranduil relatively alive and healthy and actually talking to his son. He looked weary and he was covered in the grime of the battle much like the rest of them and he held a bloody sword in each hand.

Apparently she was taking too long, so Gimli stepped round from behind her and gave a great shout. “Legolas!” Both Prince and King spun around.

“Gimli!” Legolas cried, running towards them. Behind him his father just stood and stared. Tauriel stumbled towards him, the adrenaline fading now. She came to a halt in front of him and looked at him quizzically. He didn't appear to have moved since she'd started walking towards him. He didn't even appear to have breathed.

“Meleth?” she asked cautiously.

“Tauriel,” he breathed and then flung his swords to one side to gather her into his arms. Tauriel hugged him back equally as hard. He was a good head taller than her and Tauriel wasn't entirely sure if her feet were touching the ground anymore.

Eventually he set her down and began frantically checking her for injuries. “You are here, you are alive,” he murmured. Tauriel gently took his hands, forcing him to stop his frantic checking.

“I am here, I am alive,” she agreed. “It's _over_ Thranduil. He is _dead.”_

“It is _over_ ,” Thranduil repeated, unshed tears shining in his eyes. “Finally, it is over.” He wrapped her in his arms again and Tauriel relaxed in his hold, closing her eyes. Tauriel, daughter of Mirkwood, Friend of Erebor and an honorary member of the Fellowship, was home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is mental with exams at the moment, so I probably won't update for a while, but what do you guys think about a Pride and Prejudice AU? I have to admit, I've started writing it and I'm really excited about this one. It may end up becoming another multi-chapter fic. Happy hols everyone and good luck with your exams (if you're still in school, like me :))
> 
> (Oh, and virtual cookies to anyone who spotted the Alanna the Lioness reference.)


	14. King and Lionheart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the long delay, hopefully this will make up for it. It's less shippy than the ones I usually write, more pre-relationship, but to be honest I find this kind of scenario more believable. It's based on one of my favourite songs, King and Lionheart, but I actually wrote it while listening to a completely different one.

Tauriel had risen through the ranks of the Mirkwood guards incredibly fast. She was skilled with her bow and knives, able to track all kinds of dark creatures through the woods and clever enough to handle the paperwork aspect of the guards. It was no surprise then, that she was made Captain fairly young. Even the King noticed this, and began to ask her opinion on certain things, instead of the older guards, testing her to see if she was capable of being Captain. Evidently, she passed, as he soon began to seriously ask her opinion, and the others stopped trying to whisper the answers to her.

It wasn't long after she became Captain that Tauriel realised that she was drifting away from Legolas. As one who was arguably more capable than her, he resented the fact that she had been chosen for Captain over him. In vain did Tauriel explain that she as the elder she was more likely to have been chosen, and that the King could hardly appoint his own son for fear of it being seen as favouritism. As time passed, however, it became apparent that Legolas wasn't actually jealous of her position, but the closeness that position gave her to the King. After the death of his wife, the King had distanced himself from anything that reminded him of his wife, including his young son. Unfortunately there was nothing that Tauriel could do to change that, except try to encourage them to talk a little more.

When they found a company of dwarves trying to sneak through Mirkwood, Tauriel went straight to report to the King, leaving Legolas in charge of imprisoning the dwarves until they knew what to do with them. “What is it, Captain?” he asked. “I thought you only had a routine patrol today.” Tauriel bowed her head in acknowledgement.

“That is correct sire, but we found a company of thirteen dwarves while we were cleaning out a nest of Ungoliants.”

“Dwarves?” The King sat upright and turned burning blue eyes on Tauriel. “They must be trying to reclaim their mountain.”

“But – the dragon,” Tauriel said, shocked. If it got loose it would wreak havoc on Mirkwood and Laketown!

“Indeed,” the King replied, his face shadowed. “Did you get any clue as to their identity?” Tauriel hesitated.

“The … they seemed to call the leader … Thorin,” she said slowly. “Thorin Oakenshield.”

“Thorin son of Thráin son of Thrór,” the King snarled. “Prince Under the Mountain. Bring him to me.” Tauriel bowed and left to fetch the dwarf.

The meeting between them did not go so well, and Tauriel escorted the dwarf back to the cells, to stay there forever, according to the King. What Tauriel knew that the dwarf did not, was that the jewels Thranduil had spoken of were not just any old jewels. Not only had they belonged to the late Queen, but they were known as the Queen's jewels and they were one of the last heirlooms their people had from Doriath. Every Queen of their people had worn the jewels, and when the necklace had been broken with the death of the last Queen only the dwarves had had the skills to fix it and the jewels had been cruelly stolen. As sympathetic as she was to the dwarves plight, Tauriel had to stand beside her King on this one. Once the dragon was inside the mountain, nothing could have gotten it out, not even an army of elves and if it still lived it would wreak fiery destruction on whoever tried to steal the mountain back. Before she left, she noticed Legolas talking to one of the dwarves, but thought nothing of it.

When the dwarves escaped Thranduil was furious and the elves who were supposed to have been guarding them were fired on the spot. When he realised that his son was missing though, it made what passed before seem like he was only mildly irritated. Only Tauriel was close enough to the King to realise that he was in fact terrified for his son and hiding it with anger. The King ordered the army to prepare for battle. He was going to get those jewels back from Oakenshield and drag his son back to safety if it was the last thing he did.

 

 ~ ~ ~

 

The battle was fierce and furious and Tauriel mostly managed to keep tabs on where the King was. It was one of the unspoken rules of being a Captain of the guard; you tried to stop the royalty from getting themselves killed. She didn't appear to be very good at it, but luckily the King didn't seem to need much help. Until he charged into Laketown, knocking orcs down left and right as he went. Tauriel swore and charged after him. How had she not noticed that Laketown had been overrun? There were woman and children in there! By the time she got there, the King's elk had been killed, and he'd told Feren to summon the troops back, apparently they were leaving. Tauriel fell in step behind the King, frowning as her side began to ache. She hadn't been injured had she?

Her worry about injuries was put to one side when Legolas appeared. Apparently he strongly disliked the idea of leaving the Dwarves of Erebor and the Men of Dale to fend for themselves. It would have been a huge scandal for the King and the Prince to disagree so violently in front of an audience, so it was perhaps fortunate that Tauriel provided a distraction by collapsing. It turned out that she had been injured, by a Morgul blade no less, and running after the King had only helped the poison spread through her body more quickly.

When Tauriel woke up, the battle was over. Bard had been crowned King of Dale, Dáin of the Ironhills had been crowned King of Erebor, as Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews had fallen in the battle, and Legolas had gone to travel the world. Tauriel herself, had spent almost a week unconscious in the hastily constructed infirmary tent and was (as she had been told by fed up healers every time she protested the bed rest or medicine) lucky to be alive and had only survived due to the intervention of the King himself, who was a skilled healer.

He came to visit her on her second day of bed rest, sat silently by her bedside when she woke up. “Hir vuin,” ( _my lord)_ she said, out of lack of anything else to say.

“Captain,” he replied. “The healers tell me you are making a good recovery?”

“About as well as can be expected, my King,” she agreed, resting a hand against her side as she sat up. “They say it may take another month before I am well enough to resume my duties.” She sounded unenthusiastic about the prospect and the King smirked slightly.

“Hopefully you will learn not to go running about for twenty minutes before telling anyone you've been poisoned,” he said. Tauriel flushed. “Rest and listen to the healers,” he said, getting up. It was less than an order, but more than a suggestion. “I don't want you undoing all my hard work.” He left before Tauriel could answer, sweeping out as a healer came in with some more medicine.

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Tauriel was (finally) well enough to go back to work, there was a subtle difference. She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but although she hadn't actually been promoted she seemed to have more authority. It may have simply been that there were fewer Captains after the battle, but she seemed to have more elves under her command and more listened to her suggestions. The King, especially seemed to ask her opinion and advice more and more.

Which was good as Mirkwood was becoming even more dangerous. More Ungoliants spawned in the depths of Dol Guldor and came towards the palace. Orcs seemed to live in their forest and they were losing elves even on routine patrols. Reluctantly, the King ordered the patrols to stay closer to the palace and they lost more of the forest to the darkness. They seemed to be permanently at war. Tauriel no longer argued with the King about sending a force to clean out the fortress at Dol Guldor. She doubted they even had the forces any more, the fortress was so strong now.

The strain began to tell on the King. He became sharper, harsher, colder. He seemed less put together than he should have been and even though he was an elf he began to show signs of illness. Tauriel quietly shouldered the responsibility for the patrols, making sure that the new regimes were put into place as smoothly and quickly as possible. There wasn't much more she could do except help run the guard efficiently, and glare at councillors who tried to waste the King's time. She knew he'd noticed what she was doing, nothing that went on in his halls escaped the King's notice. He'd smirk at her whenever a councillor sat back down rather quicker than he'd wanted to and he gave her a genuine smile when all of the paperwork for the patrols was handed in, needing only his signature before it was complete. That Midwinter Celebration, Tauriel received an exquisitely carved bow to replace her old one. After admiring it for almost twenty minutes, Tauriel noticed a string of elvish near the handle. “Rethcorem,” she read, smiling. ( _Lion-heart.)_ It was a common accolade, a way to call someone brave, or reckless, There was no note with it to say who it had come from, but Tauriel could guess.

 

~ ~ ~

 

News came that Elrond had called for representatives to come to Rivendell, for a council, so the King set off to Rivendell. Tauriel was told in no uncertain terms that she was to stay behind and keep the patrols running smoothly. They couldn't risk an Ungoliant or Orc getting through their defences. The halls seemed strangely empty without the King. They shouldn't have been, one of the King's most trusted advisers had been left in charge, and Tauriel didn't normally see the King that often anyway, but they still felt empty.

The halls felt much less empty when the King returned several months later, still in a towering rage. Apparently Isildur's Bane had been found by a small hobbit and a company of all the races were being sent to take it to Mordor. The reason the King was so furious was that two of the line of Durin had been there, one of whom had escaped his dungeons years before, and his son had had the nerve to insult the elves and then join the company. Prince Legolas had also joined the company, or Fellowship as they were being called. The King's rage filled the palace, all the empty places that had so nagged at Tauriel before, and some part of her was relieved to know that the King was back home.

The darkness continued to grow, and many of the elves began to leave for the Undying Lands. Their time was over now. The Mirkwood elves stayed the longest. They had the hardest journey, and many were heartened by their King's refusal to let the forces of darkness win. Still, some left. Tauriel said goodbye personally to all of her guards who left. They were all upset at leaving, and more than one tried to convince her to leave as well, and they said they would miss working under her. Tauriel always smiled at them when they asked her to leave and simply shook her head. How could she explain that Mirkwood was her home? It's air filled her lungs, it's trees held up her bones, it's soil nourished her roots. Dark as it had become, she couldn't leave Mirkwood without leaving part of herself behind as well. And the King refused to sail. How could she leave him here? He was more than her King now, and more than her friend's father. It was confusing. But he loved Mirkwood just as much as she did, and she wasn't about to abandon him.

The days were darkening fast, and Tauriel was beginning to consider leaving, when news came from Lothlorien. Lady Galadriel was planning to march on the abandoned fortress of Dol Guldor and would appreciate any aid they could give. Tauriel turned to the King, the question plain on her face. He bowed his head in agreement and fire lit Tauriel's eyes. She marshaled the remainder of the guard and the army. _Finally_ they were going to march on the fortress and wipe out the vermin that had made a home there. They were going to take back their forest, after all this time.

It was a hard fight. They had to fight just to get there, losing one or two of their members before they even made it to the fortress, and they just _wouldn't stop coming._ Tauriel stopped to wipe the sweat and blood and grime from her face and survey the battle. _How many orcs lived in the fortress?_ She wondered. And then the King caught her eye. He was a fearsome fighter, but even he was tiring now, and he had an orc creeping up on his blind side. "Sire!" she cried, flinging herself forwards without even realising it, pushing him out of the way even as she blocked the strike and killed the orc. The King sent her a look that Tauriel couldn't read, all she knew was that it was filled with fire. After that, she kept close to his side. Never before had she noticed him allowing an enemy to get that close, so she took it upon herself to guard his side, so that it wouldn't happen again. It was safer for her anyway, she realised the second time he dispatched an enemy she hadn't even noticed approaching her.

It was almost over, the orcs had been pushed back and the elves had almost won. Tauriel paused for a second to look around, and would never otherwise have spotted the archer. He was aiming directly for the King. Again, Tauriel didn't even think, she just flung herself into the arrow's path. It wasn't just duty to her King, it was something like friendship and an awful lot like love that made her feel that she had to protect him, even though he could protect himself. She knocked the King almost completely over, but had no time to think of it before the arrow embedded itself in her shoulder.

A sickening coldness began to seep through her veins and even as she stumbled forwards, Tauriel realised she had been poisoned. A pair of arms caught her before she could fall and Tauriel looked up to see the King holding her upright. Several other elves had gone after the archer, Tauriel noticed vaguely. She hoped they killed him, she hated being shot. A light touch of fingers on her face made her look back at the King. "Can you walk Tauriel?" he asked, his voice echoing oddly in her ears.

"Yes," she replied. Her voice sounded funny. The King seemed to think so too, for he gave her a concerned look. He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her upright and they headed away from the last of the fighting, the King keeping his sword out in case of an attack. Something niggled in the back of her mind, something important that she had missed, but Tauriel couldn't work out what had caught her attention. 

Tauriel's bow dropped from her fingers. It was the one the King had given her, she couldn't just leave it lying there, but her fingers didn't want to pick it up. Her vision faded in and out with her heartbeat and Tauriel realised that this poison was far more potent than anything the orcs normally used. She should probably tell someone, but her voice didn't seem to work. The King swept her up into his arms, dropping his sword as he did so. He called out, presumably for the healers, but there was a soft blackness descending on Tauriel and she slipped into unconsciousness before they arrived.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Tauriel awoke briefly once the poison had been neutralised. Her head was in somebody's lap, fingers were stroking through her hair, but her eyes didn't seem to remember how to open, so she couldn't see who it was. She could hear brief snatches of conversation, though.

" ... so many injured, the poison ..."

"... have to carry them ..."

"... no other way to get them home ..."

And then, in quieter voices, "... the Lady Galadriel ... with ..."

" ... the King ... "

" ... to save _her?"_

"Shh." Then the conversation moved away, and Tauriel couldn't hear any more of it. She could hear birds singing, and as she fell back into sleep, she wondered why there were birds anywhere near Dol Guldor.

When Tauriel woke again, she was in the Infirmary. Again. It appeared to be very early morning, and Tauriel noticed two things almost immediately. One was that the bow she had dropped was propped up against the side of the bed and the other was that the King was sat at her bedside. "Hir vuin," _(my lord)_ she said, and tried to sit upright, but her shoulder screamed at her and the King held out a hand to stop her.

"You appear to have a habit of getting yourself poisoned in the middle of a battle, Tauriel," he said. That was what she had noticed just after she'd been shot, Tauriel realised. The King had used her name.

"It's not like want to be injured," Tauriel protested. "It just ... happens."

"Indeed," the King said. "However, I believe I have an apology to make." Tauriel blinked. An apology? What for? "You were injured saving my life," he explained. "Had I been more careful I would have noticed the archer."

"You can't notice everything all the time," Tauriel said, frowning. "It was only pure luck that I happened to see him."

"Nevertheless," the King said, "I owe you a debt for saving my life." Tauriel stared at him. What? "Anything you wish for that is within my power to give, you shall have."

"I ..." Tauriel looked around helplessly. "Has the darkness retreated?" she asked. The King frowned slightly.

"Yes," he replied. "The forest is light again, as it has not been for an age."

"Then, I want for nothing, your Majesty," Tauriel said. "I have fought against the darkness my entire life, for many years now, my only wish has been to see the darkness driven from the forest." Okay, strictly speaking, that wasn't true, but the King _really_ didn't need to know about the other one. She appeared to have stunned the King. For a long moment, he simply stared at her, his eyes inscrutable as always. Finally, he shook his head.

"Rethcorem sinte," he murmured. ( _Lion-heart indeed.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise it kind of doesn't end, but I wasn't sure where it was going to go after that, so I just decided to end it there.  
> On a happier note, I have several new ideas, so keep your eyes peeled for another update ;)


	15. King and Lionheart part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry for the delay guys, but this chapter decided to change which direction it was going and I had to rewrite half of it. I'm not so sure of this chapter, I think this is another one of the ones I should probably make into a chaptered fic to do it justice, but I'm too lazy. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but if you want to take any of my ideas and run with them you're welcome :) Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Italics is thoughts, italics in speechmarks is elvish, hope this doesn't confuse anyone.

News soon came that _He_ had been vanquished, by the Fellowship that Legolas was a part of, no less! Apparently two small hobbits had infiltrated Mordor. The King had laughed it off as rumours grown out of control, but Tauriel wasn't so sure. She hadn't really known the hobbit that had travelled with the dwarves all those years ago ( _what was his name, Baddhins? Boggins?)_ but from what she had seen and heard these hobbits were fearsome creatures indeed. Brighter news was that Legolas was coming home, and this seemed to be sufficient good news for the King to declare a celebration.

Tauriel was, unfortunately, still not recovered enough to leave the infirmary and join one of the parties, but she was celebrating in her own way. Someone had sent a runner to fetch her favourite book from the library and a bottle of ginger beer, since she wasn't allowed alcohol. No one had mentioned any names, but Tauriel was pretty sure she could guess who the Someone was. She had saved his life, after all.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Legolas finally made it home, after nearly two years of wandering. Tauriel was waiting for him at the gate when he rode up to the palace. “Tauriel!” he cried, leaping off his horse. “It is good to see you again, mellon,” he added, grasping her arm.

“You too, Legolas,” she said, smiling. “Even if you are two years late.”

“I had promises to keep,” he said, defensively, and she watched in surprise as his ears turned a suspicious pink colour. He looked curiously at the sling her arm was in. “What happened?” Tauriel sighed. Even two years later her shoulder wasn't fully healed, and by now she didn't think it would ever really be. The poison that had been on the arrow was incredibly potent, and had clearly been meant to kill the King before they could get him to a healer.

“I took an arrow to the shoulder,” she said, deliberately not saying when. She didn't need Legolas freaking out and treating her like she was made of glass. “The healers say I should be able to take the sling off in a couple of weeks. That's why I'm out here,” she added. “The King refuses to let me do anything more arduous than paperwork or gate keeping.” It had been a _long_ two years. Legolas made a sympathetic face and then looked around at the forest, his whole face glowing.

“It's so _light_ Tauriel,” he said, as they walked into the palace. “I don't think I've ever seen it so full of light!”

“I … I think I have,” Tauriel said, lost in memories. “I'm not sure … I must have been very young.” She shook her head to get rid of the memories and picked up the pace a little. “Come on, your father is waiting to see you.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

It felt so _right_ with Legolas back. The forest was light again, her best friend was home and she was finally able to go back to her usual duties. The entire guard cheered when she walked in in her Captain's uniform to go on a patrol, and Tauriel smiled like an idiot for the rest of the day. It seemed like nothing could go wrong.

She should have known better than to tempt fate. Two days later, Legolas came up to her, clearly distressed. “Tauriel, your arm was in a sling for two _years?_ Why didn't you tell me?” Tauriel sighed.

“Because I didn't want you to do _this_. How did you find out anyway?” Her mind flitted to her second-in-command, who liked to gossip as much as the proverbial fisherman's wife. “If I find out Faolin has been gossiping about me _again_ -” Legolas shook his head.

“It wasn't him. My father told me.” Tauriel blinked. Well, perhaps Legolas going away for the better part of a century and living in mortal peril for almost a year was the way to get them talking again. If it was it was an exceedingly odd one. “I asked him about your arm and he said you took an arrow for him. Tauriel, _you saved my fathers life!”_ Well, for a given value of talking. Tauriel sighed and dragged him off the main corridor.

“Why are you so worked up about this, Legolas?” she asked. “I only did what any other guard would do, and it's a good thing I did, that poison would have killed me if the King and Lady Galadriel hadn't been there, so he probably wouldn't have survived it unless there was another there with his skill in healing.”

“But, Tauriel, he said your arm would never be the same again! Tauriel, you – mmph.” Legolas looked very put out when Tauriel put her hand over his mouth to silence him.

“Enough, Legolas. Yes, I saved the King's life. Yes, I paid for it. Yes, I would do it again if I had to. Okay?” She took her hand away.

“But _why?_ ” Legolas demanded as soon as he could speak again.

“Because he's the King,” Tauriel replied. She thought, _because I think I love him,_ wouldn't go over very well.

The second thing that went wrong happened several weeks later. Apparently, the Queen of Gondor, Lady Arwen, was expecting a child. Legolas was invited as he had known Lord Aragorn from the Fellowship and the King was invited because it would have been rude not to invite him. Tauriel was going with them for protection, but she would have liked to take far more guards. She'd tried to argue it with the King, but he had only said it was a waste to take that many guards. “We'll only need a few guards,” he said. “We won't need anymore. Most of the orcs and other Dark creatures have fled now that Sauron is destroyed.” Tauriel sighed but didn't push the issue. She didn't want to turn up with the King and Legolas as the only guard, because of how it would look, but she knew that the King had never cared about how things looked, and likely wouldn't start now

Tauriel wished she could spare the time to tell the King 'I told you so' loudly and repeatedly as she felled another orc. They'd been ambushed going through the Misty Mountains and were now fighting for their lives. Tauriel, as always, was fighting by the King's side. He had a habit of keeping her on his left anyway as she knew of his blindness and could be trusted to make sure nothing caught him by surprise – and she was determined nothing would. In the end, her determination was their downfall. Her arm was not as strong as it once had been and her reflexes on that side were markedly slower than they had been before. This meant that when an orc swung his arm to knock her out of the way she was a fraction of a second too slow to dodge. She landed heavily on her back, the wind knocked out of her, her sword out of her reach and the orc coming after her. He swung another blow and Tauriel managed to roll out of the way, but he caught her tunic with his blade and it ripped up the side.

"Tauriel!" At first she thought it was Legolas, because who else would cry her name with that mixture of fury and fear and love? But even as she jumped to her feet and avoided another blow she realised it had been the King. He reached her just as the orc caught her with another blow. She landed with a roll several feet away and looked back. The orc's head was several feet from it's body, but the King's sword dropped from his fingers with a loud clatter and he was clutching at his side.

Tauriel reached the King just before he collapsed. She wasn't strong enough to hold him up, but she at least managed to make sure he didn't fall too hard. She pulled off her tunic and tried to use it to stem the bleeding. Foot falls alerted her to more orcs and she swore, at least three more had approached. Legolas was several meters away, a flash of blond amid a clump of grey. Tauriel's hand went to her shoulder, but her quiver was long since empty and her bow discarded. She went to her belt, but her sword lay glittering on some rocks out of reach. A clatter caught her attention and she looked down as the King kicked his sword towards her. With no time to argue she simply picked it up and stepped in front of the King.

The King's sword was larger and heavier than any sword Tauriel had ever used before and she had to use both hands to lift it. It had been years … decades … Tauriel couldn't _remember_ the last time she had fought with a two-handed blade and she cringed at how ungainly she must appear to the King. There was no time to fret about it though, for the orcs were closing in. The blade was perfectly balanced and incredibly sharp and it was almost like the sword had a mind of it's own, coming up just in time to deflect another blow. The orcs were soon dispatched and Tauriel dropped the sword with a clatter, kneeling at the King's side. He was bleeding badly and even if Tauriel was a healer she didn't have any medicine with her. “Legolas!” she cried, pressing both hands against the King's side to try and stem the blood flow. The blond haired prince looked at them and all colour drained from his face. “Legolas! The packs!” There was a medi kit in her pack and clothing could be sacrificed for bandages. The King grabbed onto Tauriel's shoulder to steady himself and even as she tried to ignore it Tauriel's heart started to beat quicker. What an excellent time for her inconvenient feelings to get the better of her. She shook her head and concentrated on directing Legolas to get what she needed, but she couldn't help but notice that the King smelt like cinnamon and a summer storm.

Between them, Tauriel and Legolas had managed to bandage the wound in the King's side as best they could, but Legolas was now freaking out. “What do we do? Tauriel, what do we do?” Tauriel grabbed by the shoulder with her free hand (she was holding the King up with the other) and shook him as hard as her position would allow. It shut him up and Tauriel spoke quickly before he could start again.

“You are going to scout out a cave, check it is clear of orcs and reasonably defensible and help me get your father there. Then, you are going to take the horses and ride as hard as you can for the palace. Tell the healers where we are and then ride back. You will then ride on to Gondor with our excuses and enjoy the celebrations, understood? Your father will be fine, we both will be.” Legolas nodded and jumped to his feet, looking for a cave. Knowing they had a plan of action seemed to settle him somewhat. She shifted so that the King was leaning back against a rock, but still kept her arm around his shoulders for support. “How are you, sire?” He chuckled weakly.

“I've definitely been better.” He seemed to lean towards her, shifting so that he was closer to her, but Tauriel firmly told herself she was imagining things. His eyes flickered shut and Tauriel shook him as gently as she could.

“Hey, don't fall asleep, you have to stay awake. Please stay awake.” The King's eyes blinked open again, and Tauriel experienced a moment of blinding panic when she saw that his left eye was a milky white. The panic subsided as soon as she realised it was just that he was losing control of his glamour, but he still noticed.

“You're panicking,” he murmured, frowning at her. “Why are you panicking?”

“You're bleeding out in the middle of the mountains miles from a healer and you're asking me why I'm panicking?” Tauriel retorted, her traitorous heart speeding up as he smiled at her. “I thought you were supposed to be the greatest King we ever had?” His smile was a little vague around the edges, but he seemed lucid enough when he spoke.

"Tauriel, there's something I need to tell you -"

"Tauriel!" Legolas cried, running over and interrupting whatever his father was about to say. "I've found a cave, it's not too far from here."

 

It was difficult to get the King to the cave, but they managed and Tauriel knelt next to him to keep him upright while Legolas ferried their packs in. "What was it you wanted to tell me?" Tauriel asked, remembering what he'd said. But they King only shook his head and closed his eyes. Tauriel frowned. What? Had he changed his mind about what he wanted to tell her? Or was it something he wanted to say without Legolas listening in? Her heart sped up at that thought, and Tauriel once again cursed her inconvenient feelings for choosing _now_ to make themselves known.

Legolas came in with Tauriel's bow in one hand and the King's sword in the other. He placed them both within easy reach of Tauriel, and then hesitated before putting down his own quiver, which was full of arrows, as opposed to Tauriel's empty one. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked, coming over to Tauriel and laying his hand on her shoulder.

"We'll be fine," Tauriel replied. She took his hand from her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "It won't even take you a week to get to the palace and back again. We'll be fine." Legolas nodded, unconvinced, but willing to accept it for now.

"Wind to thy wings and luck to thy feet," the King murmured softly, his blue eyes flickering open.

"Strength to thy sword and hope to thy heart, Ada," Legolas replied, finishing the traditional farewell before leaving in a swish of blond hair and green cloak. The cave seemed a little smaller and darker with him gone, but Tauriel shook such maudlin thoughts from her head.

The King appeared to be asleep, leaning back against the rock wall, so Tauriel stood and went to rummage through her pack. She needed a clean shirt and tunic, since hers were torn and stained with blood. She could also feel bruises and aches settling nt her back from being flung about by that orc and she knew she had some bruise balm in her pack somewhere. Having found a clean shirt, tunic and the bruise balm, Tauriel considered the odds of being able to find a stream to bathe in and decided to just change where she was. Any stream in this vicinity was likely to be bitterly cold and Tauriel didn't want to leave the King alone. She was just yanking the clean shirt over her head - and cursing a blue streak when her hair got caught - when an amused voice said, "What are you doing?"

Stifling a shriek Tauriel pulled the shirt fully down and said, without turning to face him since she was likely as red as her hair, "Changing sire. My shirt was torn rather badly if you recall." Her heart was beating double time in her chest again, but Tauriel sternly told herself that was from the embarrassment of getting caught half dressed and _nothing else._ She reached for the bruise balm to distract herself, which she had placed on a conveniently shelf-like outcropping of rock so she didn't knock it over, and nearly dropped it anyway when the King said sharply, "Wait." Tauriel froze.

"What?" she asked. At a scuffling noise she looked over her shoulder found the King attempting to stand.

"No, wait, I'll come over." The bruise balm still in her hand, she crouched down next to the King to see what he wanted, and nearly toppled over in shock when he hoiked up the hem of her shirt so he could see her back.

"You're injured," he said, but Tauriel could barely think past her heart pounding in her ears to work out what that particular inflection meant.

"It's just some bruises," she objected, her voice remarkably steady.

"Bruises you wouldn't have if I'd been more cautious," he muttered He took the bruise balm from her hand, making her forget what she had been about to say, and then Tauriel was too busy trying to stop herself from jumping as he spread the balm across her back to understand the odd tone of voice in which he had spoken.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The King was not getting any better. Tauriel paced outside the cave so as not to disturb the King, who was sleeping inside. She should be sleeping as well, but tired as she was she couldn't quiet her mind. The King was not getting any better. it had been four days since Legolas had left, so it would be another day at least, possibly two, possibly even three, before he came back. Tauriel herself had little training as a healer and the King couldn't advise her because it was something that had to be learnt over decades, not taught in an afternoon. The King was not getting any better. Even aethalas wouldn't help them now, it was only really effective against poison and so far as she could tell the King was simply ill because of the amount of blood he had lost. Tauriel sighed and stopped pacing. The King was not getting any better, and there was nothing she could do about it. She was not a healer so she couldn't directly heal the King, and she was no mind-speaker so she couldn't speak to Legolas and hurry him along either. But she was a guard, so she could at least hunt for food. The rations had been running low, as Legolas had had to take some and they had been meant to supplement them with hunting anyway.

Ducking back into the cave, Tauriel grabbed her bow and Legolas' quiver. The King was still asleep, so she tried not to wake him. With any luck she'd be back before he awoke. She had to roam further than she expected, but that was alright, the King had been sleeping all morning, he wasn't likely to wake now.

In the cave, Thranduil desperately tried to struggle out of his dreams. He knew he was alone and he had to find Tauriel. He had to tell her. It was important, she had to know and his time was running out. But he was too weak and had less time left than he expected and his dreams were too strong. So he sank back into the darkness, hoping Legolas had worked out enough of it to tell her. it was important she knew.

Tauriel came back triumphantly. Three rock rabbits! And she hadn't lost any arrows. They were tough, wiry things and one wasn't much eating, but three should have enough meat between them to make a decent stew. She walked back into the cave, prepared to wake the King and ask him what else he would like in the stew, when she saw him. Rabbits, bow and quiver fell heedlessly to the floor as she rushed to his side. his skin was pale and translucent and he looked so fragile. This was not the King she knew and this was not someone who was healthy. Her own heart was pounding so loudly it took her an age to find his pulse and for a terrible moment she thought he might already be dead.

But no! There was a weak fluttering against her fingers and Tauriel nearly cried with relief. He couldn't die, her whole mind cried out against the idea, but the fluttering was getting weaker and weaker even as she sat there. She didn't know what to do. She was no healer and Legolas was too far away to help. But, "Please, Eru, let him be saved," she begged to the sky, holding his lax hand in both of hers. "What grace the Valar have given me," she said, the words coming from somewhere far away, "let it pass to him, let him be saved."

Fatigue filled Tauriel's bones and her eyelids grew impossibly heavy. But the King's skin didn't look so deathly pale and there was a strange glow about him. She fell forwards, her head landing on his chest, and as she closed her eyes she could hear the King's heart beating strongly again. _I saved him,_ she thought dreamily, and another thought floated back at her.

 _No, no! Tauriel please, meleth nin, you can't do this._ She was spiralling so fast into the darkness, she didn't even question what she was hearing.

 _I'm sorry, my love,_ she thought softly, barely even conscious. _But I don't think I'm coming back from this one._

 

~ ~ ~

 

For almost a day now, Legolas had had a steadily growing sense of dread making a pit in the bottom of his stomach. They were almost to the cave, but many of the healers had been arguing that they should camp tonight and find it in the morning, but Legolas wouldn't let them. He knew - somehow, he just _knew_ \- that if they waited any longer it would be too late. So he drove them on, moving faster and faster through the growing darkness until he was galloping with only the starlight to show him the way. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, terribly wrong and he was hoping against hope that when he got there it would be to find Tauriel cooking and his father healing and he would have been worrying for nothing, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. "Ada!" he jumped from his horse before it had even stopped. "Tauriel! Ada! Where are you?" The cave was brimming with darkness, but golden hair the same shade as his glinted in the blackness. Legolas ran in after the glimmer, the light seeming to follow at his heels, and then he froze.

Tauriel was lying draped across his father, her head resting on his chest, one of his hands clutched in hers. He looked the picture of health, but even as Legolas watched Tauriel was fading. He couldn't move. Legolas could hear the healers calling, but this was deep magic, old magic and it froze his muscles and locked his joints. The others had found them now, and the healers moved around him, seeing to their patients, but Legolas was still frozen. The old magic, a sacrifice to the Valar, was draining Tauriel of her life to keep his father breathing. And deep inside, Legolas was so very, very glad he hadn't allowed them to stop.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Tauriel awoke slowly, which was, in itself, surprising. The last thing she remembered was falling into the darkness with someone calling after her, holding her to this world by the merest, gossamer thin thread. She was warm and content and her eyes flickered open slowly, loath to let go of the comforting dark. For a moment, she thought herself in the halls of Manwë, for all she could see was a shimmering curtain of gold. She blinked herself awake enough to move slightly and the gold fell away, replaced by two bright blue eyes, that were curiously soft. "Hir vuin?" she asked, confused. ( _My lord?)_

"Thranduil," he replied. " _You have saved my life again, my love, I think you can call me by my name._ "

" _Saved you again?_ " she murmured, remembering her plea, and the blackness. " _But of course._ " She smiled up at him. " _I am your Lionheart, after all._ " He laughed.

" _My Lionheart?"_ he asked, moving to press a kiss to her lips. " _I like the sound of that."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for your support, and you can all thank Lordienne for this chapter, 'cause she gave me the idea to keep going with the story ;).  
> I have a Pride and Prejudice fic in the works which is going up next, but as I'm back at college I have no idea when I'm going to finish it unfortunately, so I'm thanking you for your patience in advance. Hope you all had a lovely summer and hopefully see you again soon :))


	16. Valinor AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Legolas is a matchmaker like his grandfather, Thranduil mucks up a very simple speech and Maliel is way too kind and self sacrificing and deserves none of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys! Sorry for the long wait (I seem to start every chapter off like this :( ) but the second half of this fought me tooth and nail. I hope you guys all had an awesome summer and autumn and I promise I'll try to get onto a more regular updating schedule.

Legolas sailed first. He had grown to love the brash, loud and uncouth dwarf that was somehow also kind, generous and compassionate. And, most surprising of all, Gimli had grown to love him back. However, Gimli was mortal, and while Legolas could stave off the sea longing when he had something to tie him here, his hold had weakened with every grey hair on Gimli's head. So they sailed in a little two man boat that Tauriel had helped Legolas make, and Legolas was grimly determined to get Gimli to the Undying lands come what may. So Legolas and Gimli left and Tauriel felt the halls grow dim with the absence of her friend. Not that he had always been there, indeed, he had spent very little time there since meeting Gimli, but knowing that he would never return home, that she would never again see his smile or hear his laughter until she sailed ... that settled a sadness deep into her soul.

But the King stayed, so Tauriel took heart from that and stayed in the forest even as the trickle of elves leaving Mirkwood grew to a flood. Each and every time it was brought up, the King refused point blank to leave before changing the subject. It was almost as if he didn't _want_ to leave, which Tauriel couldn't understand. His family was in the Undying lands - unlike hers which resided in Manwë's halls - his wife, his son, his parents, why wouldn't he want to see them again? Perhaps he simply loved the forest too much. That, she could sympathise with.

Finally, almost two centuries after Legolas had left, the King let it be known that he was going to sail. For a moment, Tauriel debated staying in the forest that she loved (how would she breathe on the open ocean? In the peaceful lands of Valinor? How would she stand without the tree roots under her feet? How would she live without the quiet power of the trees holding her up and twining round her bones?) but in the end it wasn't even a choice. Legolas was in the Undying lands and he was the only friend and the closest thing to a sibling that she had: she was going.

When the halls of Mirkwood emptied, Tauriel was riding behind the King. They weren't expecting trouble, not with so large a party, but Tauriel sent out her scouts anyway. It wouldn't so to be overconfident. The King had made her Commander of the guards only a short while before Legolas had left. There had been some muttering that she was too young, but no one could doubt her experience and it had died down after a while as none of the guards could come up with any complaint against her.

It was a long journey to the Grey Havens and an even longer one to Valinor and once on the ship Tauriel began to chafe at the imposed idleness. She wasn't used to having nothing to do. Indeed, as Commander of the guards she was far more used to having far too much to do and not enough hours of the day to do it in. So she searched out the sailors and shipwrights and asked to learn their craft. They were amazed to find her genuinely interested and they piled information onto her with the enthusiasm of those who genuinely love what they are doing and want to share that joy with others.

The King found her one day pouring over a diagram of a ship in an out of the way space. "Learning a new craft, Tauriel?" he asked, amused. "Are you planning on taking up ship building?" Tauriel smiled and looked up.

"No, my lord, merely trying to pass the time. I'm not used to being so idle." There was a cry from the front of the ship and the King turned, shading his eyes with his hand.

"Well, it appears your idleness is at an end, Tauriel," he replied. "Land has been sighted."

Abandoning the diagram where it fell, Tauriel rushed to the rail to lean over the side of the ship and take her first glance at the Undying lands. The first thing she saw was the forest of Mallorn trees, the second was the mountains and the third was the docks where hundreds of elves were waiting. She felt someone stand beside her, but Tauriel was too busy scanning the crowds for Gimli. Legolas would be impossible to spot in this crush of elves, but Gimli should stick out like a sore thumb. She frowned and leant even further forwards, straining to see. Elves might have the best eyesight of all the races (save for the dwarves in the dark) but even they could not see clearly over such a distance. The ships were carried ever closer by the wind and tide, but Tauriel still couldn't see them. Well, there were a lot of people there, maybe they were simply towards the back of the crowd. The elf beside her tensed, and Tauriel glanced at them, surprised to see it was the King. He looked ... unhappy, and Tauriel remembered how reluctant he was to sail. Tauriel looked out at the Undying Lands again, and felt herself sympathise with him. Although the Mallorn trees were pretty, it wasn't _Mirkwood_ and she was already homesick for the forest that she would never see again. And the King had lived there for far longer than she had, she reminded herself, it was only natural that he would be uncomfortable this far from his home.

The ships seemed to take an inordinately long time to dock and Tauriel waited impatiently for the gang plank to be lowered while the sailors busied themselves with some unending task to do with the ropes. As soon as she could, Tauriel was off the ship and searching for her friends. She was short for an elf, and soon found herself lost in the throng. "Legolas!" she called. "Gimli!"

"Tauriel!" That was Legolas' fluting voice somewhere over to her left, and Tauriel turned but could not see him in the confusion of elves trying to find their loved ones.

"Aye! We're over here lassie." That was Gimli's deep rumble, as strong as it had been in the first days she had known him, and Tauriel pushed through the crowd, grinding to a halt when she saw them. No wonder she hadn't spotted them earlier, she'd been looking for _white_ hair. Gimli's hair and beard were the deep, flowing red that she had not seen for decades, not the white locks she remembered. Of course, he would have aged back to his prime in the Undying Lands, all mortals did - they were aptly named after all.

"Tauriel! _"_ Legolas cried, lifting her off her feet in an embrace. "I have missed you, mellon-nin." _(My friend.)_

"I have missed you as well, Legolas," Tauriel replied. "The halls seemed smaller without you." She turned to Gimli. "Master Dwarf." A smile appeared under his beard.

"Mistress Elf," he huffed, a throw back to their first meeting. Tauriel laughed and bent down to hug him as well.

"So," she said, as Legolas slung an arm around her shoulders and rested a hand on Gimli's and they headed away from the docks. "How is life in the Undying Lands?"

 

~ ~ ~

 

It was only later that Tauriel thought to look around and ask Legolas why he hadn't greeted his father. The blond prince shrugged. "I thought he would want to greet my mother first," he explained. Tauriel frowned, remembering how fondly the King had spoken of seeing his son again, and Legolas was unhappy, she could see that. Apart from the minor argument when Thranduil found out that his son had given his heart to a dwarf, he had actually been quite close to Legolas. Her expression cleared as she came up with an idea.

"Why don't you go and find them, then?" she suggested. "You can have some time together as a family." Legolas looked at her anxiously.

"You wouldn't mind?" he asked.

"Of course not," she replied, "they're your _family_ , Legolas."

"Aye," Gimli agreed. "You should go to them, I can show Tauriel about." Legolas looked relieved and nodded.

"Thank you, meleth, mellon." He hugged them both briefly. "Don't forget to show her the forest paths Gimli," he added over his shoulder, hurrying off. Tauriel smiled, her heart light again as it hadn't been since Legolas had sailed.

"Well, lead on then, Master Dwarf," she said with a grin. "The forest paths await."

 

Tauriel would have expected Legolas to be gone for several hours, if not for most of the day, but it was only half an hour later that he found them in the forest. "Legolas!" Tauriel cried. "What is wrong?" For he looked pale and almost frightened.

"Nana and Ada are arguing," he said, his eyes wide. "Badly." Tauriel and Gimli exchanged bewildered looks. Why would the King be arguing with the wife he'd just been reunited with after being separated for centuries?

 

Unfortunately, whatever it was the King and Queen were arguing over, it was not something easily fixed. Almost two months had passed since they had been reunited, but there was still a tension between them. Tauriel had started to take long walks in the forest to try and avoid the tension and combat her growing restlessness. It was even worse now, as apparently Legolas had been taken into their confidence - which meant that he'd told Gimli - and he kept looking at her with a strange expression on his face and every time she questioned him about it he refused to answer. It was clearly something he found embarrassing, Tauriel mused as she rambled along the forest paths. Gimli perhaps? But no, Legolas had never mentioned his mother having a problem with Gimli and they'd been living here for centuries. Surely it would have come out before now?

A twig snapped behind her and Tauriel spun, her hand unthinkingly going for the quiver she no longer carried. Cursing under her breath, Tauriel went for her belt knife instead. And only this morning she'd been congratulating herself for leaving all her weapons in her room, as it was a sign that she was getting used to this peacefulness. Typical. "Who's there?" she called. "Legolas? Gimli?"

A figure stepped out of the shadows. He looked a lot like Legolas and the King, with long silver hair and blue eyes. He looked vaguely familiar, like she'd seen him before, but Tauriel couldn't place him. "I was just taking a walk through the woods," he replied, and his voice was familiar as well. "I am sorry for startling you."

"It's alright," Tauriel said, moving her hand away from her knife. "I'm a bit jumpy."

"Well, you were a guard, were you not?" The ellon said, drawing level with her. "Then it is easily excusable." He offered her his arm with a smile and Tauriel took it with an internal shrug. She had no idea who he was, but at least he was polite. They walked through the forest in silence for a moment, and Tauriel looked around wistfully. The forest was lovely, yes, but it wasn't _her_ forest.

"It is difficult is it not," the ellon said, "to come to a strange land and know that you can never go home." When Tauriel looked at him in surprise he smiled. "You were looking wistfully at the trees," he explained. "And I remember my first days here all too well."

"Yes," Tauriel said, sighing. "Mirkwood was dark and sick in some places, but it was home and things were simpler there. I often wished to sail, especially as Legolas was here, but now I find I am wishing myself home again."

"It passes in time," he said. "You never truly stop longing for your home, but ... it fades."

"That's good to know," Tauriel said.

"Indeed," he replied with a smile. "But I find myself curious. How was your forest simpler than here? I thought you were the Commander of the Guard?"

"I was," Tauriel replied, surprised that he should have heard of her. "But at least I had something to do. I am not used to idleness. And it was familiar. Even when the King was harsh and cold and the spiders were attacking, at least I knew what was happening, but now ... There is a tension in the halls that I have never felt before, it's what drives me out here so often."

"Well," the ellon said, somehow realising that she spoke of the situation between the King and Queen. "You must remember that it is hard for those couples that have been so long parted. It has been many, many years since they last met and they both find that the other has changed from what they remember."

"I suppose," Tauriel agreed, a slight frown on her face. _Why hasn't it affected anyone else then?_ She asked silently. Then she scolded herself. _And would you have noticed? You've been so preoccupied with Legolas and Gimli and the King that the Peredhil could have declared war on the Galadhrim and you wouldn't have noticed._

"And sometimes," the ellon continued. "We find that having been parted for so long the couple no longer ... have the same feelings for each other that they used to. But it is normally sorted out one way or the other quite quickly." Tauriel frowned again at this, but she took him at his word and they continued.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Having noticed that his red headed companion had her thoughts somewhere else, Oropher smiled. He had done his part, in planting the seed of the idea, now it was up to the two of them to fix it, although if they didn't sort themselves out soon, his grandson may have a word or two to say on the subject. He gently drew them to a stop. "I'm afraid I must leave you here, my lady, for I have a meeting soon, do you continue your walk?"

"Yes, I think so," Tauriel said, her thoughts still elsewhere. "You've given me a lot to think about." He smiled.

"No better way to resolve a difficult thought than through a long walk in the wood," he said, and she smiled at him. In that instant, Oropher could tell why his son had fallen for the plain, Silvan elf. Her smile transformed her face and her genuine happiness was contagious.

"I have often found so," she agreed.

"Fare thee well, my lady," he said, with a slight bow.

"Fare thee well, my lord," she echoed. He left and she stood for a moment to watch him, before continuing on the path through the forest. Oropher quickened his pace. His grandson, Legolas, and his grandson's husband were waiting just around the corner.

"Well?" Legolas demanded.

"Has she always been that oblivious?" Oropher asked. "She had no idea who I was."

"She's useless with faces," Legolas admitted, "but I always went to her for relationship advice."

"What did she say though?" Gimli asked impatiently. Oropher looked down at him. He'd never gotten on well with dwarves, especially Firebeard's and he had been shocked when Legolas had appeared with Gimli in tow, but even a blind man could see how much they meant to each other, so he tolerated the dwarf for Legolas' sake.

"She accepted the idea, but I have no idea whether she'll accept him or not." Legolas sighed.

"Ada will just have to be brave then." Gimli snorted.

"If you can turn up on the shores of your ancestral home and announce to all of your ancestors, including many that fought my people, that you love me, Ghivasha, then your father should be able to admit to Tauriel that he loves her." ( _Treasure)_ Legolas smiled down at him.

"Well, when you look at it that way ..."

 

~ ~ ~

 Tauriel had no idea how much further she had walked, when she heard footsteps behind her again. She turned, expecting to see the elf from earlier, but saw the King instead. He reminded her strongly of the elf, apart from the faint worried expression on his face. "Hir vuin," ( _my lord)_ Tauriel said, dipping her head in a kind of bow. "I didn't know you were out here." There wasn't quite a question implied in her statement, however much she might wish there to be one. The King's business was his own and Tauriel had no right to know his schedule. _You used to,_ whispered a voice inside her head. _You used to know everywhere he went, as Commander of the Guard._ But Thranduil sighed and answered the question even as Tauriel silenced the voice.

"I felt in need of some air," he said looking around. "My ... Maliel and I have come to an agreement and decided to part ways. I wanted to go out." He looked more than a little lost and more than slightly broken at that confession and Tauriel wasn't sure what to say.

 _Congratulations?_ Offered a voice in her head.

 _My condolences?_ Offered another.

"Um ..." Well, he did always say he appreciated the truth. "I'm not entirely sure what to say to that," she admitted. Thranduil gave a short laugh.

"I wouldn't expect you to be," he replied. "Walk with me?" The King had always like to walk while he talked and she had become so used to accompanying him on these walks that she didn't even think twice.

"Of course, hir vuin," she replied, falling into place half a step behind him. He frowned slightly.

"Thranduil," he replied, taking her arm gently and drawing her level with him. "We have known each other for so many years now, Tauriel, I think you can call me by my name." When Tauriel went to protest, he smiled. "Unless, of course, you wish for me to go back to calling you Commander?" That was the last thing Tauriel wanted, after hearing how her name sounded in his voice.

"No, no that won't be necessary, hir - Thranduil," she said, even as he laughed.

As they continued along the path, Thranduil almost absentmindedly tucked her arm through his and pulled her close. Tauriel tried to reassure herself, even as a long buried, never acknowledged wish began to burn faintly. _It might just be the way he walks with all elleths,_ she told herself.

 _Oh yeah,_ said a voice, _Then why have you never seen him do it before?_ She continued to argue with herself, not daring to allow herself to hope, but the wish ached on like an old wound. To be so close, and yet further away than ever. Oblivious to Tauriel's internal debate, Thranduil began to speak, and what he had to say soon pulled her out of her mild crisis.

 

~ ~ ~

 

"It was one reason I was so reluctant to sail," he began, glancing down at Tauriel who appeared lost in thought. Thranduil was glad his hands were only shaking slightly.

_"Tell her everything," his father had said. "She won't believe you otherwise."_

"I ... I began to think that perhaps I no longer felt for Maliel what I had before," he continued. Tauriel was looking at him now, her brow furrowed slightly and her green eyes clouded with something that looked suspiciously like pain. "There was another," he said, not noticing how Tauriel tensed, "that I found myself looking to in her place. An elleth that I was close to and I found myself turning to her more and more."

 

~ ~ ~

 

As he continued to speak, hope grew in Tauriel's chest despite her wishing it not to. _Please,_ she begged him. _Please don't say it, I don't think I could take it. Please, can't everything just go back to the way it was?_ Thranduil never got the chance to say it, however, as an elf came up behind them, one who had clearly heard every word of their conversation and who's face was twisted in anger.

"Mathien," Thranduil said, turning to face him, but not letting go of Tauriel's arm. "What are you doing here?"

"How could you?" he demanded. Thranduil raised an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?" he said, and there was the ice cold King that Tauriel knew.

"Maliel!" he cried. "My sister. It was your negligence that got her injured in the first place, and now that you've finally gone and turned up, you've gone and broken her heart!" The words hit Tauriel like a blow. _No, no. The Queen was heart broken? Because Thranduil loved another?_

"I think you will find that I have discussed this with your sister and that the decision to part ways was mutual," Thranduil said, his tone calm and not betraying any hint of what he was feeling. "Now, if you will allow Tauriel and myself to get back to our walk ..." But Mathien was no longer listening.

"Tauriel?" he demanded. "The low-born wench who was always running around after your son? Is this who you've replaced my sister with?" _No,_ Tauriel thought wildly. _No, it can't be true! I won't be responsible for hurting them like this._ Thranduil was suddenly in front of Mathien, looming above him.

"You may say what you like about me," he said, his voice silky and deathly. "But I will not hear a word against Tauriel, is that understood?" He didn't deny the accusation, and both Tauriel and Mathien noticed.

"So it is her!" he cried, and Tauriel reeled as if from a physical blow. It was all happening too fast! The King couldn't love her, he couldn't ... people like Thranduil didn't fall in love with people like Tauriel. They just didn't. And she couldn't bear the heart break. "You," he lunged at Tauriel, "you are the reason for this. It's all your fault!" Thranduil caught him and threw him back, sending him sprawling on the forest floor. "It's all your fault!" he crowed again, and Tauriel stumbled backwards. It was her fault, all her fault. She had to ... she couldn't ... she had to leave.

 

Thranduil turned to her, but Tauriel shook her head and turned, running away as fast as she could. No, no, it was all her fault. She was the reason that the King no longer loved the Queen, the reason for the Queen's broken heart. Oh, how she wished she could just get away from this all. Emotions were too complex and confusing and Thranduil had managed to broach the walls she'd carefully built without even trying. She just ... she just wanted to get away from it all. She stumbled to a halt at a fork in the path. One path looped and twisted and turned and eventually petered out in the middle of the forest, but the other headed towards the docks.

The docks! Tauriel's mind brightened. She knew how to sail. She'd helped the crew on the way here and she'd pored over those charts the shipwrights had given her until her eyes refused to focus. That's what she would do. She'd wanted to leave, hadn't she? She'd sail back to Arda, go back to Mirkwood and live in the forest. That would fix everything, because as soon as she was gone the King would go straight back to the Queen and everyone would be happy. Well, everyone apart from Tauriel and her broken heart, but she didn't really matter in the scheme of things. Looking back over her shoulder Tauriel couldn't see any sign of pursuit, but she started running towards the docks anyway. The King was stubborn, he wouldn't give her up so easily and that Mathien ... he blamed her for breaking his sister's heart. There was no telling what he might do if he caught up with her. Tauriel continued to run.

She made it all the way to the docks without bumping into anyone, but as she headed for the ships she ran right into the ellon from earlier. He caught her firmly before she fell and frowned at her. "My grandson said you had a habit of doing irrational things when you were surprised or upset," he said calmly, "and that you might find a boat and sail away from Valinor if we weren't careful. it would appear he was correct." Tauriel's head wasn't thinking properly, so she didn't realise who the ellon was, she simply blinked at him and frowned when tears slid down her cheeks. When had she stated crying? What was she crying for? The ellon's expression softened and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on, let's go inside." Tauriel shook her head.

"No, no. I have to leave." He tried to move her, but Tauriel's feet were stuck fast to the ground.

"Leave?" he echoed. "But why?" Tauriel shook her head and more tears slid down her cheeks.

"It;s all my fault," she whispered. "It's all my fault."

 

~ ~ ~

 

Oropher frowned at the girl and wondered how on Arda his son's speech had gone this badly off the rails. Luckily Legolas had remembered that Tauriel had a tendency to try and run away from her feeling, otherwise she might well have made it onto a ship, and with the state she was in she'd have been as likely to throw herself over the side as she was to actually make it back to Arda. "All your fault," he echoed. "Did Thranduil say that?" He was incredibly glad when Tauriel shook her head, as he wasn't entirely sure how he would have fixed that.

"It was Mathien," she mumbled.

"Mathien?" Only half of Oropher's mind was on the conversation, the other half was focusing on getting Tauriel away from the docks and how to fix this whole mess, but that name caught his attention. "What was he doing there?"

"He followed the King, heard our conversation." More tears slid down her cheeks, but Oropher wasn't sure she was even aware that she was crying. "But I'm glad he interrupted when he did, because the King was abut to say something that I didn't want him to -"

"Why on Arda not?" Oropher asked, interrupting. They were nearly as the halls now, for which Oropher was thankful. He'd always been useless when it came to advising people and the sooner he got to the halls, the sooner he could hand Tauriel over to someone who knew how to deal with emotions and go and get the story out of his son. Elrond perhaps? He should know how to deal with Tauriel after having a daughter of his own. No, Legolas would be better, someone she knew would be much more help.

"Because I couldn't bear it if it wasn't me," Tauriel said. "But I don't think I could bear it if it was either." She swiped the tears off her cheeks. "Oh, why can't everything go back to the way it was?" She was trying for anger, but her voice was thick with tears and trembled with something approaching fear.

"Not even the Valar can turn back time, mellon," Oropher said softly, spotting Legolas in the distance. Excellent, reinforcements had arrived.

"I wish they could," Tauriel said, still with the thread of fear in her voice, and Oropher wished he knew what she was frightened of. Not Thranduil surely? Herself perhaps? The reactions of others?

Legolas arrived and Tauriel practically fell into his arms. "Take care of her," Oropher said. "I'm going to go find my son."

"What happened?" Legolas asked.

"That's what I'm going to find out," Oropher said, over his shoulder, heading in the direction of the forest.

 

~ ~ ~

 

By the time Legolas and Gimli had taken her to her room, Tauriel's tears had dried up. She blew her nose on the handkerchief Gimli gave her and wiped her eyes. "I feel a bit silly for falling apart like that," she admitted.

"I wouldn't, _kurdunamad,_ " Gimli said. He poked Legolas in the ribs. "This one cried for two weeks after we got here and he realised he couldn't go back home." Legolas blushed, but didn't deny it as Tauriel and Gimli laughed, but he did poke Gimli in the ribs in retaliation.

"Tauriel," Legolas said. "Before all this happened, my mother wanted to speak with you." She went deathly still and Legolas continued hastily, "She just wanted to clarify a few things, make sure that everyone knew where they all stood. I think it would be a good idea."

"So do I, for what it's worth," Gimli added. Tauriel was silent for a moment, twisting the hem of her shirt through her fingers.

"Alright," she said finally. "But you two have to leave."

"What, why?" Legolas demanded. Gimli, quicker on the uptake than some, was already standing.

"Come on lad, we'll just wait outside."

"But I want to stay with Tauriel," Legolas said, pouting like an elfling. Tauriel raised an eyebrow.

"You want to sit and listen to your mother and I discuss our relationships with your father?" she asked. She watched, amused, as that thought landed and Legolas jumped to his feet.

"Come on, Gimli, we're leaving," he said, ushering the dwarf out, Tauriel's laughter following them.

 

It wasn't long before there was a soft knock on the door and Tauriel took a deep breath before calling, "Come in." The door opened and a tall, graceful elleth slipped in. Maliel looked to be near the same height as Thranduil and she had the same golden hair as Legolas. Indeed, the longer Tauriel looked, the more she saw of Legolas in Maliel's face. She'd always thought he took after his father, but there was more of his mother in him than she'd realised. The Queen wore a beautiful blue dress and sat with a graceful ease that made Tauriel feel young and gauche.

"Thank you for agreeing to meeting me, Tauriel," she said, her eyes taking in Tauriel's tear stained face. "I just wanted to clarify things," an edge was added to her voice, "especially after what my idiot of a brother has done."

"It wasn't his fault, hiril vuin," ( _my lady)_ Tauriel said. "A lot of things have been building up."

"And he was just the catalyst, hmm?" she said dryly. "And call me Maliel," she added. "I haven't been your Queen in a long time, Tauriel."

"Of course, hir ... Maliel." Her eyes softened as Tauriel stumbled over her name and she sighed.

"You've loved him longer than any of us thought, haven't you Tauriel?" she asked. Tauriel nodded even as she fought down the blush that was rising as Maliel's words.

"Yes," she replied with a sigh. "My whole life I think, sometimes." Maliel nodded, and then leant forwards to take Tauriel's hands in hers.

"I want you to listen to me carefully now," she said. "Thranduil ... I still love him, but I love the version I left behind over a thousand years ago. He is no longer the elf I love and he tried, he did, but he's changed since I knew him and loving you is the least of those changes." She reached out to lift Tauriel's chin, forcing Tauriel to meet her eyes. "It is not your fault Tauriel, please believe me when I say that. Valinor is outside time in a way, but Mirkwood isn't. Thranduil had to change, all living things do. You didn't force him to fall in love with you any more than he forced you to fall in love with him." She gave a small bittersweet smile. "Falling in love isn't a choice but staying in love is, and no one can make him change his mind if he doesn't want to. I should know." She let go of Tauriel's hands and sat back, smoothing down her skirts. "Now, you may want to go and wash your face before Thranduil gets here, he'll kill my brother if he knows he made you cry and I want a piece of him first." She stood and gave Tauriel that bittersweet smile again. "I wish you every happiness Tauriel, I really do."

"And you," Tauriel murmured as she left.

 

Taking Maliel's advice, Tauriel washed her face in cold water to make it less obvious that she'd been crying. It was a good job she did it as soon as Maliel had left, as she'd barely returned to the sitting room before Thranduil came in. He looked worried, but it faded as soon as he saw Tauriel sat in an armchair by the fire. He crossed the room in three quick steps and swept her up into his arms. Tauriel blinked, taken by surprise, but she hugged him back. It only lasted a moment before he was sliding down to kneel by her feet, but Tauriel felt like something that had been tilting dangerously inside her all day had been fixed. "I am so sorry, meleth," he murmured. "I never meant to make you run from me." He looked so miserable that Tauriel hastened to reassure him.

"No, no, Thran," the pet name slipped out as Tauriel spoke. "It wasn't you." She reached out to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, but Thranduil caught her hand and held it to his cheek.

"Mathien?" he asked, and then his sharp eyes took in her face and the still faintly visible tear tracks and he sucked in a gasp. "Tauriel ... ?" he reached out to brush his thumb over her cheek.

"I'm fine," Tauriel reassured him, trying not to shiver as his thumb brushed over her cheek again. "I was just overwhelmed. Please don't go," she added as his expression darkened and he made to stand. "Maliel said she'd deal with him." Now he simply looked confused.

"You've spoken to Maliel?" And there was a faint shadow of unease lurking in his eyes. Tauriel nodded.

"She said she wanted to clarify things for me, so that I ... I knew where we were," she explained, biting her lip anxiously. "I ... it helped. She was very kind." Thranduil nodded.

"She's always kind," he said, sighing. He looked away, a faint guilt in his face. "I wish I had done more to deserve it." He turned his head, pressing a kiss to Tauriel's wrist and her breath hitched. "I am sorry that Mathien upset you," he said, now holding her hand in both of his and meeting her gaze steadily. "He was always so protective of her." Tauriel shrugged as casually as she was able with her heart beating double time in her chest.

"It is the prerogative of brothers to be protective of sisters," she said. "Valar knows Legolas has been protective enough of me in the past." An almost mischievous grin graced Thranduil's face, one that Tauriel had never seen before, and she tilted her head, curious.

"I do hope I don't have to duel Legolas for your hand as well," he said, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and Tauriel's mind utterly and completely _blanked._ His smile spoke of mischief, but his eyes were sincere and he met Tauriel's gaze steadily. She stared at him for a full minute, her brain snarled and knotted in a tangle of hundreds of thoughts.

And then something that wasn't her brain (but was possibly her heart) took control of her limbs and made her slide out of her chair and into his arms and clumsily press her lips to his. And he kissed her back.

 

They ended up back in the armchair, Tauriel in Thranduil's lap, his arms wrapped possessively around her and Tauriel's head rested on his shoulder. There were probably things they needed to talk about, but it had been a long day and she was comfortable and watching the crackling fire was making her drowsy and Thranduil's hand stroking her hair was soothing and Tauriel slipped into sleep. She briefly woke up when Thranduil carried her to her bed. Not properly, just enough to grab his sleeve and tug him down next to her. He lay next to her hesitantly, but Tauriel was half asleep and her walls were completely down and she curled up into his arms, murmuring something that may have been, "I love you," as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :)


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